Icarus
we were in the air for about seven
seconds before the cocky bastard
got sucked into the right engine, the
resulting fire blowing open the fuselage
and making even the sun jealous for a
moment. passengers were raining out
over a field in kansas; you can imagine
the screams, i’m sure, the prayers cast
up then down, twirling in the sky, and
yet i look over and see my girl, laughing
all the way down, the wind dragging a
floppy smile back and forth across her
face as we tumble, head over heels like
sacks of wet clay and i reach out my
hand, grasp hers and she glances at
me, giggling, grinning, and i swear,
before the ground split my sides, i
saw wings, all her own butterfly out
and lift her back into the blue.
Arian Moharari is a high school student and a poet in his free time. He enjoys frequenting spoken word recitals, in part for the poetry, but also for the free coffee. He’s been previously published in a handful of local literary magazines, and has high hopes of publishing a book of his writings in the near future. He spends most of his free time learning new languages, playing various string instruments, and sleeping on couches.
Copyright © 2013 by Arian Moharari
Randomly Accessed Poetics 