That’s how I fly

Journey poem

When I fly,

I watch the movie screens of other passengers

3, 4, 6 at a time

My eyes flicker back and forth between moments.

I don’t need the sound or full plot, there is sufficient story in the incomplete pieces.

Am I the only one who has watched a thousand films and not “seen” a single one?

White noise hums as we hurtle around globe. 8000 miles in 24 hours.

To those on the ground, my passage sounds like thunder — children stare and point, joy in their eyes.

To me, buckled into the metal cylinder, I hear sounds of the ocean, though the ocean is 30,000 feet below.

I read and write, sleep when I can,

Peaceful in my winged tin can,

Full of trust in the ability of man to

Overcome the seemingly immutable laws of nature.

For better or worse, humans don’t think the rules apply to us.

The journey is endless and instant.

Somehow when I arrive, I find I didn’t have enough time

To think

To read