Three ditties from the airplane

Three Chimes on the Hour

Ding, Ding, Dong
Rough acoustics startle
Dreary eyes widen
A day like all others
Singular as part of the infinitum
Three more hours
Nine more chimes
A day alike,
But for one last thing
Today the songs are inaudible

The crescent of an orchid

Vulvic jutting
a flower grown wild
Hanging from the wall
Its openness pornographic
No shame, no fear
Is this the way we should live?
adrift in sensuality?
Its earthy aroma calls
Sweet, and yet tinged with naivety
Does it know how easily it could be crushed?
does it matter?
A flower, a woman the questions are the same.

Music Defines my Relationships

The stones ripple across blown speakers
her mouth moves, but her words evasive
a serpentine nature.
They sound of meaning that I cannot grasp
Curling around I want to ask
"what is the point?"
"Why are we waiting?"
Instead I nod.
My agreance is preordained
My cowardice is a learned habit
I tell myself there is strength in this.
That my passivity is grease
These rails need lubrication
If only
If only
If only
Each held word is itself an ends.
The warble now stronger.
More distinct
Less able to understand
never able to interpret