17/30

You want to get on a plane just to get a glimpse of a woman’s thigh.
            ~ Don Draper

I was going to write about death will I see the magnolia I planted last spring grow tall strong as my boy I was going to write about death my obsession with portals death the definitive I was going to write about death how I bathed the elders as they died how the elders died from the feet up the two years I worked in a nursing home how they died alone this morning I hiked the beach at low tide a death smell forest trails water roared up their sides I was going to write about death when I saw the news a plane crashed a 737 fell out of the sky fell out kept falling kept falling I was going to write about death not a woman getting sucked out of an airplane window I was going to write about death not a plane crash a 737 an airplane I may have built I may have may have wired that engine I may have may have slung electricity across its fuselage I may have crimped and tied and knotted and bolted and tightened and polished its bright eerie wing I may have I may have 30 years in the factory I was going to write about death today but not this not this not this gleam bird that may have my fingerprints in its belly my breath whispered into its cold titanium mouth its skin I was going to write about death but my stomach lurched into my throat and won’t come won’t come won’t come down