Karah Stokes
Twin Engine Plane From a Kit
It doesn't look like anything that flies,
bird or moth, yet awkward, gossamer,
in your dreams it shimmers above the desert heat.
At first it's a trendy thing, the neighbors
wander across the yard to watch
you tinker in the twilight, think
you mad but harmless. Then they turn
the talk to politics. The coals of their lit
cigarettes glow like extra fireflies, smoke drifting
up and away.
 Few by few they drift on, leaving
you to navigate alone the labyrinthine plans,
instructions in an alien language, by your
faith in universal physics, and
a knowing that you know you cannot trust.
You know there's no way it will fly.
You know there's no way you can stop it.
Karah Stokes lives, writes and gardens in Lexington, Kentucky. Poetry by Karah Stokes appeared in the
first and second issues of Gumball Poetry as well. Read Arse Poetica from the first issue, or Hunger from the second.
Email Karah Stokes at karah@gumballpoetry.com.
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