There’s something sexy about being miles high in the air.
Above everything you’re familiar with.
Your problems as small as the fields of grass below you.
Stare outside your window seat and watch the
white pillowed clouds dance across the pale sky
as colors blend together like freshly spun
Gravity is for the needy.
This is as close to weightless as
you’ll ever be,
you lucky bastard.
But they try to ruin it.
The women with scarves.
The men in suits.
Greeting us, waiting on us
with their free Internet and
complimentary circus peanuts.
Clown smiles painted across their smug faces
making us wish
we cancelled our membership.