In the Sky

In the sky man made measurement of time does not exist. The only reminder you have is how your body reacts to altitude shifts. You adopt a metaphysical transformation. Things change and you notice. Turbulence jitters up your white knuckles and the burnt coffee rattles in its cage. In these small increments of nothing something happens; electricity surges between human particles and the mind grows anxious in a concentrated confinement. Voices will drown in the stale, recycled air. There is no time - that is, in the sense of any purposeful scratch in numerical existence. Your neighbors are but friendly strangers who may or may not complication your own intentions. The world below you moves forward with a passing glance at the lights signaling your position in space. Eternal droning, eclectic, essential and everlasting. Do not look down. Chew some gum so your ears don't pop. Remind yourself where the exit is and realize the illusion of safety that has brought you here. Push the attendant button. Ask for more coffee. Bask in the metal tube hurling through space.  Ladies and gentlemen, this is your captain speaking.  We're going to go ahead and begin our descent. The fasten your seatbelts sign is now on. We hope you've enjoyed the flight. Prepare for landing.

Train Waves

My morning coffee is accompanied by the distant train that hums southbound along the shore line. The porch rattles; my bones soak in the sunlight. I am enslaved by a laconic atmosphere that echoes between houses and cars quicker here than there. Faded into the distant future as the summer rolls to a close. Jitters pulse through my tendons, spitting coffee at me, mocking my cognizant eardrums. I feel awake. I feel alive. I feel organic. Voices drown out the distant choo and I am brought back to everything present. Cosmic vibrations in the sine waves of a continuous universe.

At the Beach in NJ, August 2014

Light blue plasmic orbs encrusted into the backside of my eyelids. Some waves wash off two hot pink bikinis and the lifeguards catch a glimpse, high-five, and turn the radio down. An hourglass dumps sand on my stomach, into my hair. The ice melted and my cocktail is lite. The energy orbs orbit my skull and illuminate purple when someone interesting struts by. Burroughs' pages get sunburnt and the spine is damp with ocean water; proven attempt to focus. Unsuccessful. Teenagers attempt throwing a frisbee at each other without decreasing level of swag. Inevitable. A shitty parent looks the other way while her six year old throws sand at an elderly couple. Orbs rattle in centrifugal force beneath my skin as I coat it with sunscreen. A foreign family arrives, decides to sit within my personal space radius, sets up a camping tent, starts yelling at each other, then pointing at me. I smile. They growl. I move my chair because etiquette and courtesy are lost arts. Direct sunlight drips down my nose and onto my knees. Orbs sprout from beneath my organic toe nails, buried in sand and energetic wind patterns. A grown-ass man attempts to shoot his garbage like a basketball and misses. He does not make the effort to rebound and mother nature adds him to her little black book. A skinny, middle aged woman covered in tattoos walks over to the blue barrel, throws out her trash, and picks up the rebound. Nearby, a high schooler is reading - hopefully rereading - The Giver. Lowry dances in the clouds and shifts into a turtle. Then into a dog. Heat waves wriggle from the boardwalk surface and split between frisbee teenagers. Plasmic orbs gravitate to and tug at my eyelids. I am ignorant. I am the sand, the ocean, and the human experience. The universe is askew.