flight 6630

the summer solstice
finds me taking flight
from brick city
on a jet
too small
to experience any
measure of comfort
regardless of my window
seat
or class distinction
as we lift off the runway
bound for a town of
pork loving people
with a penchant for complaining about baseball
all hail
the queen
my eyes remain riveted upon
empire states
as i say
farewell
to the capital of the world
a rightful place
at 38,000
feet
the plane pitches and rocks
the pilot has informed us
it will be a
turbulent flight
i smile
as it has been so long
since i have had good
reason
to fear for my life
my entire existence
wrought with
bumps
why should this
endeavor
buck the trend
oh yes
it is all
about to get
fucking interesting
i find myself wishing
i had eaten
breakfast this morning
tomato juice and complimentary nuts
are a pathetic
excuse for a last meal
you can smell the fear in the cabin
as the cold
front jostles us about
weary white knuckled travelers
i would pray like
the rest of the frequently flying flock
but i lost god’s number when i threw
away
my rolodex

i am incapable of indifference
i wonder who will love my
sons
enough to take them
when a plane is diving
you see every face
you
ever loved
and
i considered
what i wanted
my last
thoughts
to be
it was the first time i held my sons
it was you at the
arrival gate
your eyes saying i love you
your outstretched arms begging me
to run faster
it was us
walking down the middle
of meadow
street
past ancient
lawn chaired mobsters
looking at my legs
and
your suit
toward the rest of ourselves

particle physics
our hands touch
you grab my little finger with
yours
every part of me vibrates to be near you
car door opened for me with
care
and for a moment
i am no longer
shattered
happy landings