Popup Passengers

To my fellow passengers who wish,
who pray, that ask God

will you catch this?
And before he can even nod

jump of your own accord
traveling on the hands of a clock, the days of a calendar
hoping you don’t fall forevermore

into Superman’s arms.
Entrusting that your donation

in truth, justice, the American way, in all its charms
will get you to your final destination

Which is… do you even know anymore?
Your own heart’s parameters
as if this is what you came for

an inch, a ticket, a page
telling you where to go, on a pen tip

flying from its cage
not knowing where you’ll be at the end of it.

Only escape is its own reward
or at least higher than the Challenger
Can you afford

the mental rent in the minds of men
a window seat

asking again and again
when shall we meet

my Sweet Lord.
In this life, in this can of worms
what am I moving towards

like so many others
where will my life begin

for I am no Wright brother
watching autumn leaves in the wind.

Welcome aboard
All my fellow passengers
Don’t know how or why but watch how I soar

Copyright © 2017, Will A. Bradford Jr. All rights reserved.

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