Traveling by plane, across the main,
Sitting in coach, waiting for peanuts,
I was thinking about layovers.
Drifting to sleep, on that square of a pillow,
Knees to my chest and arms folded tight,
Dreaming of home, but stuck on this flight.
Turbulence seesawing our plane up and down,
Waking me abruptly, my vision still blurred,
I glance out the window, over the wing.
Mother of god, it's a duck of all things,
Staring at me like a new zoo exhibit,
Quacking at me, to say what an idiot.
Stuck in a can, hurtling across the sky,
At the mercy of gravity, because I can't fly.
This duck makes a point as he leaps in the air.
Spreading his wings, gone without a care.
Oct 24, 2010
Oct 24, 2010 at 9:01 AM UTC
Traveling by plane, across the main,
Sitting in coach, waiting for peanuts,
I was thinking about layovers.
Drifting to sleep, on that square of a pillow,
Knees to my chest and arms folded tight,
Dreaming of home, but stuck on this flight.
Turbulence seesawing our plane up and down,
Waking me abruptly, my vision still blurred,
I glance out the window, over the wing.
Mother of god, it's a duck of all things,
Staring at me like a new zoo exhibit,
Quacking at me, to say what an idiot.
Stuck in a can, hurtling across the sky,
At the mercy of gravity, because I can't fly.
This duck makes a point as he leaps in the air.
Spreading his wings, gone without a care.
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