I know if I just sleep they’ll go away.
The person sitting next to me is sweating
On my arm. I want to say excuse me, do
You mind? But would that get us anywhere?
He’s terrified. Maybe we should pray.
I look around and see that some are doing
Just that. I should be joining them but go
Instead to the bathroom, or try, but there’s
A hand all knotted in my hair. Today
I go along with it, surprised by this thing
That’s growing in my gut, an icy floe.
I’m forced to the floor; the morning is so fair!
I see it through the window as we dive,
So urgent, earthward, marvelous, alive.
Dear Reader,
Can I be direct with you?
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