No Fighter Pilots
By Lisa Rodriguez •
He wasn't a fighter pilot.
Just a mechanic whose dreams
weren't strong enough to come true.
The glow of his cigarette in the dark
and the blue lights on the runway
signaled danger.
But like ferris wheel lights,
they made me lightheaded for a while.
Then the carnival came down.
Tom Cruise isn't a fighter pilot.
He performs aerial maneuvers
from a cardboard cockpit
with fire in his eyes,
but none in the engine.
Fooled again, I walk out half believing he could fly.
There are no fighter pilots--
no aviators in shining armor.
I'm an ace, if anyone,
with an imagination that flies at the speed of sound
and a heart that runs on jet fuel.
Tom Cruise goes home after his death defying lies.
He goes to the bathroom.
When he has a cold he blows his nose.
And eighteen is a stupid age
when you think a khaki jumpsuit makes
a fighter pilot.
Coming in for a landing,
I see the control tower in my head
telling me to stop looking in the clouds
for a man.
He's not a fighter pilot
and he isn't up there.
But he's handsome and creative
and he loves me.
And he's right here next to me
with popcorn in his lap.
by Lisa (Teel) Rodriguez
1987