Cola comes in cans
With smooth flexing
Aluminum sides
Less flexible aluminum
Cans with rows of seats
Provide us transportation
We sit in those gaudy tubes
With smooth flexing
Aluminum wings
As vibrations shimmy
Us about the sky
To our destinations
Watching aluminum wings
Disassemble in whining pangs
Wafted about on landing
Gaudy tubes on wheeled wings
Wait in lines to rumble forth
Or hang as inbound lines of lights
Flights on final landing
Follow lumbering liftoffs
Growling in their wake
They come, they go
And in between
They clean out the cola cans