[The problem with movies about air travel is]
The problem with movies about air travel is
you never get to watch yourself take off
from the outside. When I was little I had to board a plane
from the tarmac and grabbed a grownup’s hand,
looking up to realize he was not my father
but the man standing in front of my father.
I am told that I started crying. I am told by many people
that I am funny. I’ve invited many puns,
some involving taxidermy and archeologists.
You wouldn’t believe me if I told you
I fell in love with a long-haired man named Django
who sold me boxes of wine at Trader Joe’s.
His long hair was much curlier than mine. Later in traffic
I watched the reflection of a plane fly across
someone’s rear window and when I turned right
I was driving beneath it, following its trajectory.
Following an airplane-shaped bruise in the sky.
I started reading science textbooks to learn more
about bruises but found them very unfunny.
Also, can someone please explain atomization? Also,
what does anthropogenic mean? I learned funny-looking
flightless birds are always the first to go.
The dodo never stood a chance. Emus might be next.
The movies always end the same way: a 747 rippling
behind the jet stream of its own hot flight.