i don't know how to get out of the sky

i am made out of electricity.
i am always disappointing you.
i am not what you wanted, i feel dizzy
at the south pole. i pant from disorientation,
it makes me sad how the magnetic fields are changing.
north and south are moving towards each other.
when they meet they will hang over the continents.
everyone will have vertigo and fall down.

i don’t trust the compass. north is not good enough
for me anymore. north is not what i hoped
it would be. i hope north feels very bad
about itself. and the guilt! north will become bloated
from eating its feelings and roll over into the east.
everyone will bleed from their ears and jump into the ocean.

good. i am pissed.

i smoked cigarettes until i got an ear infection. i cried and all the tears
went up my nose. i am pissed at you.
when a plane flies by i don’t know which way is east.
i cannot see the sun and don’t know which way is east.
i look at the compass but don’t believe what it says. electricity could be
involved. when electricity is involved you cannot believe anything.
it makes me dizzy having electricity around all day.
the altitude is killing natural magnetism. east is going extinct.
east is selfish and will never get married.
east smokes too many cigarettes.
east is fucking the north and having illegitimate children.

i am never going to get out of here.
the only way is down.


the hot air balloonist is sleeping

(a bear, a native american and an auto mechanic are in the balloon).

bear: did you see that chameleon float by? it was the color of air.

auto mechanic: this hot air balloon has a flat tire and a false bottom. i don’t like deception and i don’t like poor vehicular maintenance.

native american: there should be a word for water without a bottom.

bear: i wish that chameleon would come back. that chameleon and i had something. i hate it when that chameleon is offline.

hot air balloonist: i don’t have wi-fi in this hot air balloon. i think you have mistaken yourself for the internet.

native american: my eyes are water and my hair is water and my heart is water. my pillow is water and my liver is water and my teeth are water.

hot air balloonist: i don’t feel like writing right now. i am going to go swimming in the balloon pool.

native american: i am water and my people are water.

auto mechanic: if you hadn’t let all the air out we wouldn’t have this problem. now there is no air left and everything is blue. that is not right. things should be clear but instead they are blue.

hot air balloonist: uh-oh. this hot air balloon is not a duck boat.

bear: that chameleon has opened my heart in one thousand ways.


the balloon without pedro is boring

i wish a bear would float by.
are there any bears in america? if a bear
was in my balloon with me we would hold hands.
the bear could not operate the mechanisms because
of no thumbs but i could take care of that
i have been playing solitaire for 4 days.

you take rejection so hard.
i didn’t want to throw you overboard but
we were sinking and i was tired of your vocabulary.
rejection can be funny if you laugh. laughter makes the thing
become funny. i am playing two hands of solitaire at once now
i will not let the devil beat me.

when i hated you i was thinking of someone else.
i saw people’s faces in the trees and confused you
with someone cold and heavy. i don’t really know
anything about your temperature or density or whether
you could operate the mechanisms. it doesn’t matter.
when i loved you i was thinking of someone else.


there should be a word for every kind of hot air balloon that exists

i met pedro in the air. he was collecting letters. he was assembling pieces of cloud.

i told pedro about the oldest form of human-carrying flight technology. he told me about a fire-starter in his village. she had a flame halo.

pedro went away to discover new fire words. “there should be a word for every kind of fire that exists” he said.

“there is a flame in this hot air balloon” i said.

“humans have explored the entire horizontal world, but they rarely think to explore vertically,” i said.

pedro and i are in love.

i taught pedro about how the oldest form of human-carrying flight technology started with floating eggshells and airborne lanterns. pieces of things went into the air before humans went into the air. birds are not included in this.

“people think too much about birds” pedro said.

i think too much about people. the tree line looks like a silver dollar when it reflects the sun. it makes the shape of a man’s face.

pedro is not even writing a new language. he is confused. he thinks he is in school right now. he thinks the air is a chalkboard.

“i am on my 49th word for fire!” pedro said.

i am going to throw pedro overboard. pedro and i are not in love.