Thoughts on an airplane

Sinking below me

I see octagonal churches

And a concentrated obelisk city

The housing developments spin on fractal axes

Constructing unintelligible bubble language


A lonely school racetrack peaks through a pale shag rug

Punctuated by impossible white ribbons

Beyond the cotton ball clouds

Rises a whipped-cream mountain mess

A dog has emptied out a chew toy in space


Looking down at the water

I scan for whales and boats

But see nothing in the expanse

I think the world would seem much larger

If I were a sailor