Friday, December 16, 2011
This is my last whiskey bottle,
Emptied to carry my last message to you.
I remain trapped in a sea of corn and soybeans
On a small island that grows smaller
With each passing day.
The natives are friendly
But persistent in tracking my activities,
Much harder to tolerate
Given the lack of whiskey.
Still waiting for that rescue you promised.
I miss you.
P.S. If you can’t send a rescue plane,
Or if you expect another message,
Please send another bottle of whiskey.