the flight is full
the plane, under my control
great bird, gliding.

already attentive
great bird, gliding
great white crucifix, overhead.

in the co-pilot’s cockpit
a half-empty glass.
he excuses himself
though noone else will.
I stand too
but no salute
reach out,
bolt the door.

He is gone.
I am calm.
I am still
I will take them down
It is my will.

free-falling
for the better,
from false hopes
of high heaven.
misunderstood:
hands beating,
alarms sounding
recorded for posterity
rash against my breathing.

frantic fists
of cast and crew
they try to stop me.
fools:
you are too late;
too few.

The great bird plummets
God’s eagle, majestic.
Cleansed, I have cleansed them
I hear pleas, in passing
I forgive them.

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