Attempts at poetry on an airplane don’t always go over as well as planned. Sometimes it just can’t play out and all you can do is say that you tried. Your mind is scattered but the words don’t flow from brain to hand holding pen. You try to sync your thoughts to the turbulence of the plane. The turbulence of the plane doesn’t necessarily translate to chaos of thought crystalized into poetry. You console yourself with the thought that at least you tried. The experience of the journey will eventually inspire art. It’s not much but it’s something.
Fingers tightly grip
pen touching page not moving
no inspiration
no flowing cascades of thought
to counteract turbulence