Short Fuselage Poems

If the wings travel faster than the fuselage,
And you are in a helicopter, that’s ok
However if you are in any other aircraft
It’s probably a very good time to pray...

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Your paper plane while I slept in my window flew.
It’s exhaust mad me gag and made me turn blue.
On its fuselage I painted a risqué picture of you. 


By Robb A. Kopp...

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Eight hours cooped up in a plane
entubed in fuselage can put a strain
on buttocks squeezed into a seat
with no stretching room for feet.
Add to that the high-pitched cry
of a backseat woman’s brat and I 
began to wonder: Was I in a plane
or a tube undergoing an inflight MRI?...

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Airplane traveling in the night
enters the darkness
floats from cloud to cloud
City lights reflect on the fuselage
It flies with soft pace

She flies silently above
Passing through the houses and blocks
Wings are open for it's fate
A Landing and a destination

Tomorrow there's more
But now it's nighttime
And we sleep waiting
for a future we think...

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