Jets flew through my mind.
Gratitude arrived
when I could see freshly creased
vomit bags in the seat back folder
in front of me. Numbers like rain
shattering the sidewalk
that circles the garden
of my sanity.
I sit still with flames
licking my computational
mechanism and my mind emptied
into the vomit bag. Safe in my
jet seat, the small jets calmed me
as they flew out of my ears,
shaving my hair, making
me invisible.
stillfugue 
#1 by pattisj on August 2, 2011 - 8:41 pm
I like the “sidewalk the circles the garden of my sanity.” Gotta watch for sidewalk cracks, the weeds creep in…
#2 by Carl on August 4, 2011 - 9:49 pm
I like the “sidewalk the circles the garden of my sanity.” Gotta watch for sidewalk cracks, the weeds creep in…
#3 by Carl D'Agostino on August 2, 2011 - 9:27 pm
“the garden of my sanity” Eden? Is there a return possible? Sanity: unblemished and pure? Is the gate forever locked? Is Redemption the key and at what price?
#4 by Carl on August 4, 2011 - 9:51 pm
parts of our misty bodies slip through the gate for temporary visits
#5 by Indigo Spider on August 3, 2011 - 10:05 pm
Interesting — garden of my sanity. Makes me think of having to tend to sanity like one tends to a garden. I’ve never thought of tending to sanity but I suppose my insanity does break through, like weeds, that I pluck at in an endless, futile effort of remaining sane and pleasing to the garden admirer on the path surrounding the garden.
I also like the jets metaphor. I grew up under the flight path to JFK airport. Those planes seemed like escape and prison.
#6 by Carl on August 4, 2011 - 9:52 pm
Thank you for your comment. You help me learn.
#7 by Kay Camden on August 8, 2011 - 10:50 am
This is one of my favorites of yours and I’m not sure why. It is so vivid.
#8 by Carl on August 9, 2011 - 6:01 am
You are very kind, Kay. I appreciate your comment. You help me learn.