Flight
Flight
Fright
I don’t feel safe—
And that’s why I like it.
Horizen turns blue
And clouds melt to grey
As my body leans back
and is thrusted
into the sky.
The power of a plane overcomes me
I hate flying
And it won’t be long
Before I fly again
A rush inside me
Rises up
As the thrill of adrenaline
Pulses my veins.
The red light of morning has not yet matured
But it will by the time
We reach Philadelphia
You won’t know when I’m
There
Because cell phones must
Remain in an off position.
I’ll pretend you’re at the airport
Waiting my arrival
And only mine—
Or better yet,
I’ll pretend you’re sitting
Between me and grouch-lady,
Who finds sudoku more important
Than a smile.
Stupid sudoku.
You’d sacrifice yourself
To the middle seat
Cuz even if the aisle seat is worst
You know I hate much more
To sit next to a person
Who makes me feel not quite
Like a person
Because I’m not a person—
Don’t remind me!
When I’m flying.
Here’s your stereotypes:
There—your stereotypes
We all fit different molds
Yet we’re all the same
But so different
For your malconceived unconvenience,
Cell phones may go into
The “on” position now.
I don’t know what it means—
This
Stuffy head.
Ears packed between
Brains and the pressure of
Being on top
At least in the air
I don’t have to walk through mist
I don’t have to talk to anybody
I’ll take a coffee—
Is the only thing worth saying,
Sans turbulence
I dare not turn my head
Or steal a glance
Out tiny windows
For fear the pressured rush of pain returns,
Oh, busy head.
Copyright © Brooke Wolfe | Year Posted 2007
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