A plane home,
holding it together like winter in June,
a passed away friends dry ground
hard to find as any
from a mile up,
or only six feet away.
No cocktails, no Dramamine,
Ill sick and seizure just the same;
my manual is made of liquid,
fragile as a prayer
recited in slumber
at the luggage station,
where a conveyer lets go, go, go
until the rollers break;
until the rubber throws up its hands
in split hair strands, and finally says
no.
A plain home,
holding it together like a desert palm,
a seed that strayed from comforts
of tropical showers to root
in spider-webbed salt flats
o
The first thing that one usually does when his or her aunt is found dead is to celebrate. Of course, this process varies across cultures, but the general rule is to throw your hands up and yell "Hooray!" upon receiving the news, or discovering it.
So when little Tommy came home from soccer practice to find his aunt dead on the lazy chair in the living room, he did throw his hands up and yell "Hooray!" (Children are very well read nowadays and know all about these traditions.) He didn't yell too loud, though, as he wasn't totally sure she had expired. Tommy took as evidence her stillness, her glazed-over eyes and a little drool which had come
"Found a bird in delta." I say.
John doesn't stir, so I repeat.
"Said a bird flew in. Little scrawny thing, but it got in."
"Can't of."
"What I thought. But it did."
I can hear John stretch out in the bunk above me, the ancient springs groaning as his body and muscles shift across them.
"Where's the leak?"
"Sally's looking. Be in delta though - can't of got through a bulkhead."
"Better not be delta two."
I nod, because neither of us want it in delta two.
"What sort of bird?"
"Little scrawny bastard, don't know. Could look him up."
John swings himself off the top bunk, and sits down on the end of my bed to do
250 christians can't be wrong by missedpoints, literature
Literature
250 christians can't be wrong
I.
The counselors tried to keep the children calm before meals. They lined them up by cabin in front of the dinning hall and preformed various stunts to pacify them until the tables were set. Sometimes they sang songs with hand motions:
"Baby Shark do do do do do do, Baby Shark do do do do do do, Baby Shark. Mama Shark do do do do do do, Mama Shark do do do do do do, Mama Shark, Daddy Shark do do do do do do…" The song continued to tell the story of a woman swimming who suffered a shark attack and flew to Heaven. It was an annoying tune with gestures that involved little more than clapping your hands together in a vertical snapping moti