Last day of the month means last poem for National Poetry Month. Today's poem is from Eileen G'Sell and is featured in our Fall/Winter 07-08 (vol. 4, no. 2) issue.
Faith Equivalent to Airplane
I'll make it up for you: two wings
on the way to happiness or some other
distant color, the ghost that goes the same way
we do, ghost-blue and lofty-headed, a little bit
lost and dangerous. This is faith, like a pheromone,
floating through the attics, the top floor of a ruined
heart, filled with bits and pieces, a peaceful
project for engineers, a ghetto-fab apartment.
These are the final minutes before we land
the deal of a lifetime. What else would you like
me to tell you, world? I'll make up a plan you can't
refuse, a trashy jaunt through the wilderness.
In this happy time for headphones, plane of tame
entendres, I plan to make you mine within
the limits of a logo. This cabin-frozen love
for cockpit, for always, for pilot-lit deliverance
basement deep, these wings
will not collapse over night, not now, right
in the spring of things. This skin, chilled
to the musk of touch, will ribbon,
will cloud the alkaline sky.