Rare Field Ceiling

Rare field shook the plane

Earthly creak at great height

The pilot tapped the glass inside the starling’s mind

Pitched through birdcage or church

Hovered lightly on a child tune

Heavy blossom, plastic decoration

Oxygen mask



Blue smoke leaf plume touched the apse

A finger in the eye

Have you got my transmission?

Did you know me?

I defected, boss

Now decorate me

Mask me with a smell

I’m in the air now and

Nothing can help me to the ground