It’s so sad, the pretty girl’s face
pushed right
up against the screen.
She sleeps on, all wires;
wakes, watches again.
I think she’s Vietnamese.
I listen to a podcast about phone
dependency: don’t sleep with your phone.
I’m tangled,
like the wires that surround me, in my seat,
to the plane’s inner workings.
…us, that surround us…
Us
And the plane, the silly plane – its body is nothing without
us, a shell without meat.
