Mar
29th
Mon
29th
plane
slap the ceiling and kill the clouds
the rose colored cumulonimbus
glued pupils of the negligent
we are in it!
an aluminum magic machine
-above the fury
but keep trying old woman
i’m sure they mean for you to be
as blind as them
in there tiny offices
with one bulb at the end of
their chains.
over and over they prick the keys
binding the checkered boxes to
false origins and undefinable syntax
binding you
but i see
how can you look away!
there it’s framed
between slick blue leather
and a gentleman’s earlobe
(the one who took the wrong seat)
there it’s framed
like so many dreams of man
unadulterated
like no one on this goddamn plane.
