The Battle of the Desk and Chair

I wish I could feel the cold pit of fear
And the deep pressure of a tight turn.
I wish I could feel the exhilaration of
my thumb on a trigger and the jar
of the guns as they shudder in the airframe.
I wish I could see the high blue bowl of the sky
and the little crosses we ride up into the air
to make war on each other in three dimensions.
I wish I could breathe the cold pure oxygen
of a twelve thousand foot sky in a frail steel Hurricane
And sometimes I wish I could feel the thump of German shells
tearing up my little machine and my soft body
and the rush of the sweet crystal air as I fall
twelve thousand feet
From the high blue bowl of the sky
to the long plain of the earth
I wish I could live in the hot fear of death every time I go up
and the exhausting reprieve of relief every time I come down
I wish I had a life of danger and adventure like that
but all I have is a chair and a computer and a game called
Battle of Britain
and some wishes