Don’t be scared. Every airplane is a suspension
of disbelief, a merger of physics and faith.
Every airplane guides its housefly tongue
along a curving, snagless line. Its corridor of earth
is lined with lights. So don’t be scared.
Let that crescendo of the engines be your trust
that nothing levitates on algebra alone. Subdue
the sputter of doubt. The bags are checked,
the brown men shackled to the ground; their secrets,
pulled like rotten teeth, are yours. As is the sky,
swept clean by searchlights, emptied
even of the moon, the stars.
