From the Flight

That man is much too big
for his seat. To think
of that large, powerful
head on a pillow such
as the one he holds. He
directs others to openings
in the luggage racks and is
awarded the same snack
the rest of the passengers eat, yet
he nibbles the crackers,
individually pinched between
his thumb and index, pinky
out-stretched. He nips
the edges with his pearly
teeth and a smile with
his eyebrows raised ecstatic.
He smiles at the pretty
girls and watches their
backsides sway down the
aisle. He nods to the guys,
not as interested. With one
massive leg in the aisle,
his head against the pillow,
and his mouth open,
he slumbers, as only a
man his size can, powerful
breath without snoring.



Sitting & waiting & cramping &
craving. Yearning & thinking & holding.
Bent & folded, upright &
molded. Lost in a direct flight.
Confused by extra-long daytime. Wading
chased by the sun. Mid-heaven questions.
Watching & hearing,
spying & belching & breathing.
Sniffling & coughing & blowing.
Again, going without knowing.