Fossilized Fuel

Liquid dinosaurs

set ablaze

flaming millenium old reptile corpses

rocket my wife, my son

my life

five miles above the stony ground

six inches

mostly styrofoam

and mostly plastic

protecting the sleeping

oblivious countenance

the fruit of my wife’s labor

cradled in arms

offering protection

delivering comfort

necessary illusions

six hundred miles an hour

a pair of wings without the benefit of prayer

aloft despite the flaws of Bernoulli

the momentum of 161 lives conserved

We’d have to fall to hit a cloud.

 

I lean over this faded polyester seat

gently kiss the cheek of my son

Through the clear plastic window

I watch

transfixed

the past ignited

stored in our wings

 

If this fails

I would remember to smile

on the way down.

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