FIVE POEMS
Sep 01, 2020
4 minutes
NIKKI WALLSCHLAEGER
Black Woman on a Plane, 21st Century
Minutiae in a bowl
jerry-rigged hand
in need of a drink,
The flight attendant
said, “It’s on me,”
I must’ve looked
like I needed one.
Such a rough climb,
wobbly as the sun
during Leo season
come to find out
a brand new plane
is hot to handle.
The first breath:
crucial, coughs.
My favorite path
of looking winds up
when I’m in the air,
there’s no way
to vacuum seal death
up here I suppose,
even though I’ve never
felt the urge to buy
a traveling pillow.
If something develops,if our machine defects,
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