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I am in California! I might as well write “I am on Jupiter!”.  It is such a different world down here. It’s like I stepped through a wormhole and ended up in some eleventh dimension. I am a fish of different waters.

Travel day was good, but hard. We went to bed late and woke early, and never stopped moving. Here’s something I learned today: I all of a sudden hate flying. No, that’s not true, I take-off and landing. When I was jetting about hither and yon in my early twenties, I had no problem with it, but now that I’m older, all that goes through my mind is twisted steel and flames and screams. Why does my brain do this? Why do I imagine these horrific scenarios in such exquisite and extensive detail?  And I used to really enjoy the airports too, but since having kids, I sink into twisted visions of lurking contagion on every surface, and floating unseen through the air and into my daughters’ nostrils. Maybe I’ve read too much, and watched too many movies. Or maybe, maybe this fragmented moment that feels so often like late history is just really fucking terrifying. Sorry for the expletive. That’s just what it is.

When I’m not imagining horror, I really enjoy the airport. People! We come in so many kinds and have such interesting faces.  I have to be careful  not to stare too long. HP and I pass the time by dreaming up stories for travelers: the hipster ad guys on their way to a pitch, the mixed marshal arts dudes drinking bud light bottles, the former stripper turned real estate mogul…it’s fun.

Must poem and go to bed. Some kind of travel poem.

the eleventh dimension

If the plane lifted up through some cloudstroked wormhole

and into some eleventh dimension,

where the the land below stays the same but the nightmares ebb,

and the cornfield hayfield soyfield patchwork blurs and uncarves in time,

and if, in that new magnitude, the wings never fail or get shot down,

and if the air is always clean and never pandemic,

and if in that dimension, my children are always safe above it all,

then I would board without fear and ride out the turbulence with glee that matches theirs,

and would stare down until my eyes hurt,

and dream up wings.


Gotta admit, I kind of gave up on that one. It’s been a long day.  Safe travels, poemies, if you be traveling. Happy Saturday!