Nothing like the brochure
A fine azure font
of jet stream not even a cloud
the reliability of air pocket turns wind shear
Sorry? So? Ha!
Grammars of aerodynamics err.
Of this sure you can be.
Of this control I have full.
This to the you can take bank.
(The fickle foible of these acts of God: 1. Navigator chokes;
2. Pilot reneges;
3. Luck of the Hindenburg;
40,000 feet of unparalleled rejoinders: Look Those clouds
This will be a perfect landing. The skies are clear. There will be no delay. Bing Bing
Fasten your seatbelts.
In the unlikely event of unforeseen-ness
what you can’t foresee can’t hurt you but for now poked in the eye
of the storm, we hover.
plummet condescension dense
as girders aghast
Gravity pressurized his hiss grows thicker quick kick to the abs
of steel I tried to be good—never stole
Hillside of a mountain mound of confetti ending endemic
in the Andes and I
love you and we were not meant to fly
upon such fragile
fatalistic wings in such a season
We were not agile
to soar these windy reasons of flings
rent upon slings so sly the sunny
sky repealed replied I love you not enough enough not enough
to have to hold the emptiness
of this still seeping vessel
to earth’s equal
and opposite embrace
Survivor surfaces white sterility
ion of ache
I fear this fragile flask, the improbability of the predictable lottery of landing
No choice in the cabin, we heal
Helium dirigible (prick)
We frequently fall
If you tell me one more time I’m not important enough for this calamity…
I will burst.