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Fellow Traveler
On the way to Sofia,
crammed in the middle seat
for my 13-hour flight from L.A.,
the elderly woman next to me
wipes down everything
with hand sanitizer.
First the window,
then her tray,
then the back of her seat.
“I know somebody who
caught a virus on an airplane
and died,” she says.
As the engine starts to roar,
she crosses herself
then offers me some M&Ms.
She warns me she has to
drink a lot of water
and apologizes if she has
to wake me up later
to use the restroom—
she’s just had one of her
kidneys removed.
“You don’t always get
to choose your seat,” she says.
The Quest for Perfect Armor
But before we get there, we're going to have to learn a little bit about the realities of the subsea.
—“The Diving Bell and the Exoskeleton,” Atlantic Monthly
If you want to dive deep,
you must find the perfect armor.
Protect your frail
body as you sink
into the lower depths.
The deeper you dive,
the longer it takes to decompress.
Ascend slowly.
Stop for periods of time
or face serious pain and injury.
Learn how to deal with
the pressure.
Become aware of your breath.
Notice the life around you.
Be in awe of it.
Bird of Prey
Owl, dead among the roadside trash:
dirty sole of a tennis shoe,
ripped rubber from a flat tire,
broken bits of plastic.
Once great guardian of the Acropolis.
Soft wings still spread.
Beaming eyes in a fixed stare,
at what I don’t know.
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