Evolutionary existentialism

I’m thinking of
a helium-filled balloon
tensely rising up and about the sky and through the wind.

And I’m thinking of
atoms.
And their excitement.

And whether they can tell the difference
between the cold night air
or the inside of a balloon
or tucked into the useless pockets of skinny jeans.

I’m thinking of
hot air balloons.

And mythology

and worry

and innovation.

I’m thinking of
gods
and questions
and attempting to turn
the knob of a locked door,
unable to find a key,
turning to
frantically patting your pockets-
always favoring the one in the very back.
Always finding your knuckle crunched up
in the empty space of what we could swear we knew was there.

I’m thinking of
TVs on airplanes.
Efficiency.
A blurry roadside so there is no clear view to reflect upon.

A blurry roadside so there is no clear view to reflect upon.

I’m thinking of
TVs on airplanes
and speed
and distraction.

I’m thinking of
fear.

I’m thinking of
turbulence
and earplugs.

Of
headphones
and senses
and filling empty spaces by pouring cement,

of clutching to a liquid
that cannot harden quickly enough
for us to not bear the weight of
our own restless limbs.

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