Back at home the lights flicker
with familiar ineffeciency. Like small
eyes on a smiling face, where only
tiny glimpses of glass catch the light
before it's unceremoniosly squinted closed.
After a long holiday away from normality,
one tends to forget how important everyone is
and how competent they all are
even when you're not around.
Puts you back in your place.
I've seen the world through airplane windows--
more glare than scenery. The mind oddly focused
on overlooking your own reflection in the plastic-glass;
Carrying a book to show the travelers that you
are indeed literate, while still from Louisiana.
You remember all your prayers while on a plane:
The forgive-me's, the please-give-me's, the I-promise-
I-Will-give-thee's.... Just get me off this God forsaken
metal, flying, abomination safetly's... Then I say to myself,
"remember Moses... tapping twice... no faith... best be confident!"
At home you remember why the hell you left.
All the while thinking, "Man I know I have a half read book lying
around here somewhere!" Just let my mind escape.
No need to be rash and propel yourself a thousand miles away.
Just lay yourself down. Close your eyes and think.
Then tap tap tap,
Just like that.
you've written yourself
a little rap.