How to Fly
This page is my paper ticket
somehow it will escape—
I’ll fly with it
first class on a paper airplane
it’s what I dreamed of in the warehouse years ago
the one thing we all shared—
the want of a way out
hopes fought stuffy air
crawled staleness toward an ear
the cardboard boxes we stacked
were shipped where our eyes pointed
where our feet dreamed of walking
though caught in parallel rows
august haze cleared enough to reveal
the untouchable horizon
we held our futures in fists
refused to let go
we knew who we would be
scotty wished to touch the moon
james was to direct movies
I was to go to new york city to write—
they asked me to write about them
to carry them with me on the page
we lugged regrets
as weights in our boxes
but vowed never to be stuck in the middle
in dim florescence
semis sighed opaque exhaust
we inhaled
and the sun set and rose in transparent pastels
then set and rose again
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