on the airplane ride westward
I am a poem from this side of the world to the other.
Triangulate these lines and find something angular in these
words. I declare them satisfaction on the roads mid construction
highways cleared of trees; I am progress–if poetry
moves forward–I am the windshield protecting inspiration
from misfortune’s flies and ambitious stones.
Thumbs out! or clutching the nubs once pencils. I am
poetry where I stand or wherever I once stood. Come
riding with me some afternoon absorbed to the moment–
I am poetry living for a destination. For it is destiny
sending me to you.