by April Ardis Anderson
Set skyward the winged tinfoil flew
In the mid-winter clouded noon
Above car, over house, through atmosphere
White billows of gods below
Grudgingly gave passage through beauty eternal
To the projectile
As it continued on the jetstream course.
Unfortunately this lustrous dot
Found necessary the means to land
A request the velvet lords denied
Blocking all passage.
Tearing sacred ivory tissue
The broad-winged bird descended.
Parasites hitch-hiking internally
Quite unaware of the danger, the terror
As the angered deities
Howled and twisted, reached for and grasped
The air behind the metal mosquito
As it persisted in purloining a path
Splitting the most holy cotton puffs.
Soaring scintillating fish erupted
Leaving a red-violet wound in the vapor
Bleeding ethereal sunlight
Into which the citizens below gazed
Trying to catch a glimpse
Before the gods conspired
And the storm ensued.