Stuck in this metal tube Air stale and recirculated Single serving fruit cup tastes like claustrophobia Knees jammed against front seat Can’t sleep Wet wipe dry against red eye flight stubble cheek Weeping internally Economy wasn’t made for 6 foot 3 No I don’t want…
Category: Marathon Poem
Hour 15: Revelry in Flight
A plane is a vessel for adventurers To take you many places unknown Other countries to explore and learn Many sights to see Many things to experience When I was a child I hoped to see Cloud people living like you and me On top…
Poem 15
Why would you carry a body around? You know her now You can notify her kin. Why carry a body around? Perhaps you engage in sin. It isn’t. It ain’t right. You can’t keep that thing there. Why carry a body? It must have disease….
Checked Baggage (Hour 15)
People watching, ticket check, boarding pass print, panic, time efficiency Shuffle past multitudes of lives, interplaying, happening to occupy the same space for mere instances, rushing to catch various flights, mechanisms soaring across the globe in days, hours. People who would never have likely met,…
hour 15 poem
Intelligence If you use your mind Intelligence you may have We must wait to see
How High Does the Sky Go?
The sky is the highway forever and the world below is flat and the dream of flight fills the air with dust and coats the seas in gasoline. Every child who isn’t hungry goes to disneyland to question the concept of the state. We’re no…
HANSEL & GRETEL MEET LITTLE RED RIDING HOOD
Hour 15 (a prompt from Write The Story book. Mash up two classic fairy tales. I’m starting to get a little punchy) HANSEL AND GRETEL MEET LITTLE RED RIDING HOOD She headed out with her basket of goodies and treats Some things for…
Trying to Type
I write things: typing and typing. My mind is blank. I try to get it to ring. My stomach sank. I am not sure what to bring. I grab a pencil or pen. Doodling and random words. I like the look of them. My words…
Grown
A cliche thrown out last night, ‘she has grown on me’, passive receptive of this botanical feat, corpse like feat feeding future flora inside, probing subtle roots talking of painful past now fixed, covering around my shielded fig exterior, barrier formed to a life I…
Let’s Fly
Do not fret at all, Midday or the pain of being Stuck in the airplane.