Hey, Bert?

Eight point five hours aboard an Orion
(The Navy’s prop-powered subhunting P-3s),
So cold and exhausted I’m practically cryin’.
I’m wearing my tropical-weight SDBs
Because, though it’s Christmas, I’m bound for Hawai’i
Where wintertime temperatures need not apply.
The aircraft’s unheated; there’s only bad coffee
To keep me euthermic. Who’s sleepy? Not I!
Twenty-two styrofoam cups of hot java
From Moffett to Hickam. I’ll sleep when I’m dead!
More caffeine than blood floods my heart’s vena cava
(The plural is cavae, so that’s what I said).
It’s practically dawn when my friend Jeff collects me
But I’m still so wired I can’t close my eyes
So when Jenny, his sister, wakes up, we connect: She
Turns on PBS. What a happy surprise!
It’s Bert! And it’s Ernie! They’re planning a trip
To the zoo; Ernie’s psyched and won’t turn out the light
While poor Bert wishes Ernie would just get a grip
And stop talking: “Please, Ernie, I’m sleepy. Good night!”
“Hey, Bert?” “Ernie, please–” “But, Bert, what if the lion
Escapes from his cage at the zoo? Would he eat us?”
“Oh, Ernie, the cages are locked. Please, I’m tryin’–”
“But what if the zookeeper’s so glad to meet us
He doesn’t remember to close the cage door
And the lion gets out….” In my sleep-deprived state
I’m convinced this is comedy genius! I’m sore
In the stomach from laughing so hard. This is great!
So there’s Jenny, eleven years old, and there’s me,
A big Navy midshipman, and Sesame Street
Has us both in hypoxic hysterics…. I see
That we both now have kids of our own. Pretty sweet.