I spent a large portion of the last couple of days in airports and airplanes, and it’s always amazing to me to think of—and participate in—humanity’s (relatively) new ability to fly. Still, no matter how fast we can get there, the reality is that we can only ever be in one place or another, never both. That’s what this poem is about:

Airplanes make the world so small
But I want more.

They give me wings and make me fly
But I am still
Not satisfied.

Yes, I go efficiently
But when I leave
A piece of me
Is always left behind.

Can someone make a plane
That takes
And leaves me
At the same time?

Never mind.

My heart has
Already supplied
The thing that
You could not provide—

It lives in all the places
That I have
Left behind.

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