Ate 'E' 7

To start out, I'd like to visit, once again, my poetry corner and this poem was inspired by one of my friends:
There once was a man from Nantucket,
He lived 'till he kicked the bucket.
Now his family doesn't mind,
That he is gone all the time.
You poor drunk that looks like Upchucket.

This has been another look into my poetry corner. I do specialized poems upon request as well.
It may or may not be true that I'm a part of this pilot club. It also may or may not be true that none of us in the club actually own a plane bigger than the size of a swollen hand. Which means that we may or may not just run around with our arms out like wings and making air plane sounds. If such were the case, which it may be, then this would be me demonstrating my pilot skills as I fly over a local mountain.