A Vogon poem to mark my departure

As my plane took off from Raleigh-Durham International, I was drowned in a deluge of sentimentality. I thought back to the last poem I'd heard and remembered the godawful verses read at Obama's inauguration. Thus inspired, I penned these wholly unremarkable lines.
(To be recited in a stilted fashion...in the manner of a history teacher reading roll-call ...Bueller... Bueller...Bueller...)

Goodbye.
Goodbye fresh air.
Goodbye my wide expanses of green.
Goodbye my quirky friends
Who come bearing scotch and baked brie.

Farewell my men.
Farewell my wenches.
Farewell my oracles, my God, my Godot.

Somewhere, Asad is mocked,
A post-processualist cursed, bones sexed,
Soroush probed--I am not with you.

Somewhere, someone unscrews a bottle,
Chops some celery,
Makes a Bloody Mary--I am not with you.

Somewhere, a party is missing its jester, it's bearded lady,
A man is missing a wife,
A cat has one lap less--I too am alone.

I must not say goodbye.
The dot and feather shall reunite,
And I will walk again with you.
--Feb 5, 2009