Arial Underbellies

In every other place I come to,
I sit below the flight path of departing planes,
guessing games,
predicting names,

getting carried away

by the fantastical make-believe of
their contents' destinations,
travellers' tales
and the thought
of transit spaces miles above the earth.

And then I imagine myself inside these arial underbellies
wondering that
(beaming out of an airplane window)
the world always looks like a more tolerable place.


Entre deux endroits
it's easier to orient oneself to navigable maps,
avoid ideological mishaps
and leave behind the thinking hats
that come from knowing too much.