5:25pm Flight to Denver

May 2nd, 2016

I got back home at about 7:00am today from my trip to California. It was rad and exhausting and totally worth it. I’ll write more about it in another post mainly because I took a cute picture but have no where to put as it isn’t aesthetically pleasing enough for Instagram and too braggy for Facebook. Anyways, here is a poem I wrote on the second half of my flight from SFO to Denver, after I experienced the scariest turbulence of my life. Also, btw, yes the white people clapped when the plane landed smh.

5:25pm Flight to Denver

It took the type
of turbulence that
suspended each Denver-bound
passenger in a space
above their seats and
deep into their fears
to poke holes in the
nucleus of the sleek
plane-flyers intent
upon their next destination.

Once our plane was
restored to stillness,
as the pregnant woman
diagonal to me wiped her
tears, and the mother
reluctantly unclasped her
daughter’s hand in the next
seat over, the holes began
to show their light in the
form of nervous conversation.

As it turns out, the
center holds quite firmly
until confronted with
the fleeting realization that life
and death are solitary pursuits.
Each of us flying solo in
our planes across the
sky by virtue of defining ourselves
in opposition to one another.

The turbulence, and the
realization I will die
presented an alternative being
on this three-hour
flight. What we sought
then, at least until the
fear grew distant, was
a communal definition that
unfurled our center and allowed
us to believe we were not alone.


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