The Man in the Helicopter

It would be so easy to say I was thinking,
“so long, asshole.”
But I wasn’t.
I felt bad for the man.
They say people will talk about where they were
when a black man put his hand on Lincoln’s bible
and a Catholic pro-lifer screwed up the swearing in.
I’ll remember learning there was a Marine One
as well as an Air Force One.
I’ll remember that same black man
walking with the now retired president
to a shiny green helicopter for technical reasons
was no longer known as Marine One.
His entrance reminded me of the photos of Nixon’s curtain call.
He proceeded to leave and hover over the city of Washington
as the black man and three others waved.
And I felt bad for the man in the helicopter.
People made fun of him and
suggested he was stupid.
Yet I don’t think he was oblivious.
As he flew over DC
I’m sure he could sense the people below
hissing like cobras.
I’m sure he sensed people saying,
“So long, asshole.”
I wonder if he looked down at the kingdom once his
and said,
“If I could go back in time.”
I wonder if he said,
“So much more I wanted to accomplish.”
His chance is over, and I say, thankfully.
Yet I felt bad for the man in the helicopter.
After all, he was a man.