All Verse Fly Coach

Attention all poetry: This is your stewardess Free Verse speaking. Please make sure that your seatbelts are securely fastened and your tray table is positioned upright in the seatback in front of you. Thank you and have a nice trip. My poem's batteries have run out. They died somewhere over Kansas while listening to The Talking Heads. My poem is sitting aisle. He can't see Kansas or anywhere else. Sitting next to him is a very interesting fellow. A man who keeps on mumbling and repeating sentences, but my poem likes him, with his shaggy blonde hair covered by a tilted green beret, his devilish smile, his funny French accent. The name embroidered onto his vest is, Villanelle.