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.