black monstrosities swallowing tubes
of chicken sandwich stocked stooges,
we groan and mumble with late fees
and sarcastically thank the sleet
like static in blinking strobes.
we watch the lightning
burst our bubbles,
we pop our ears.
aloft, alight and off.
i’m homeward bound, all,
and my driver’s a girl i miss.
thank the pilots,
their little snickers when suggesting drag
and ailerons mixing gas pressures to create clouds.
they like flying fast,
i do too.
we’re awake,
wafting the caffeine before our faces.
we waltz our way into aisles and take our seats.
maidy with the chardonnay, the crew’s new kid a giddy fool.
take me from this place, fly me home with this tool.
headache,
the dehydration of waiting,
and thirst for rain outside the windows.
fifteen minutes and I’m home.
######
Lukas Isenhart currently studies biology at Birmingham-Southern College and hopes to eventually join ranks with the brave men and women of Doctors without Borders. He writes in his spare time, often incorporating the German language into his poetry.