In Midair

Another meaty metal body
Dangles in midair.

Barely seems
Suspended; perhaps the

Fog holds up its mass and
All the lives within.

Autopilot disengaged we
Route around the weather

Rather, we watch La La Land
On matchbook screens and

Clutch our dancing coffees
While Dan the Man takes

Berth around a storm maker.
I pull down the shade to push out

The glare of sunlight reflecting
From the bubble tops of clouds.

“You are in a chair!
In the sky!” Louis reminds me.

Tati watches Sponge Bob. Twin headphones
Split Sirius. Isaiah goes Rogue.

Colin snoozes. In midair, this
Meaty metal body barely hanging there.

Elizabeth Howard

Elizabeth writes literary non-fiction, haiku, cultural rants, and Demand Poetry in order to forward the cause of beautiful writing. She calls London, Kansas City, and Iowa home. 


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