Belt [Part One]

January 11, 2012
By Sleep-Sweet BRONZE, Newport News, Virginia
Sleep-Sweet BRONZE, Newport News, Virginia
2 articles 0 photos 0 comments

Favorite Quote:
There's nothing to writing. All you do is sit down at a typewriter and bleed.

He boarded the plane,
Flight Three Eighty Two,
Didn’t bother to read the destination.
The first ticket out of here,
And he’d be gone, he had said.

It hadn’t been five minutes
Before the first hanging in the lavatory.
The Stewardess couldn’t take it,
Never knowing anyone,
Never knowing anywhere.
Nothing lasted more than eight hours.
Living was an abstraction to her,
She never really killed herself
If she never really lived.

His wife had left him at the gate,
With another man,
Clutching the papers like a lifeline.
The stewardess thought herself to be okay,
Only yesterday;
But don’t we all just lose it?

The author's comments:
This is an excerpt (reworked into a poem) from a transgressive short story I'm working on, about a man who goes away on a business trip. His wife leaves him immediately before, and there are several incidents that occur on the plane that follow his stages of grief.

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