In Atlanta, everybody calls you baby.
Flight numbers freak me out. They’re how they identify your plane for years afterward. I always hear Tom Brokaw’s voice in my head saying my flight number.
My airplane has no row 13.
The hardest thing is re-creating the rhythms of life. The rim shots embedded in family dinner at the dinner table.
(Why) (Do) All airline pilots talk like game show hosts?
I was the passenger singled out for the baggage search. My crimes are multiple:
• Buying my ticket online
• Buying a one-way ticket
• Having a connecting flight
One of my friends has sent me his poetry DVD—An Invitation to the Terrorists Ball. I hold my breath as the Cuban woman in her blue suit looks through my bag.
If we started to crash, would there be time to pull the cushion from below the seat and put on my life jacket? How long does it take to plummet 30,000 feet, anyway? Someone behind me tries to push her way past me getting off the plane. Imagine if we were in a nosedive? No. Don’t imagine it.
Alice Notley – don’t arrive anywhere in your sleep. Don’t mix up night and day. Soul and detective.
Put away all negative thoughts or notes containing therein during takeoff and landing as your negative vibes may interfere with the plane’s equipment.
Start a blank page.
Surrealist Doodle
This was used as the cover of Karawane in 2006 and I have included it in on a number of bags and postcards over the years. Someone on the subway asked me if it was a Miro. I was very flattered!
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment