the way we're headed in poetry

we can see clouds from the other side now
from over the top in a passenger jet-plane
as if the cotton-balls beneath our feet
were the firmament of an Earth instead
as if the little blue spaces in-between
were just cracks between the floorboards

so few human beings could ever do so
the technology is just a century old
and our future so incredibly uncertain
we could be back to stone knives and
tanned bear-skins any random day now
the way we seem to be headed lately
but for this little slice of history
we can see clouds from the top-side

we’ve ruined the experience, of course
by rendering it all so tedious and rote
by throwing in their pointless pat-downs
via warning announcement bring-downs and
diseases spread by sneeze and extra fees
almost like they don’t want us to see
that the clouds have another side and
maybe they don’t want us to at that

maybe if we all had that perspective
if we all lived in a remembrance how
the cotton-balls have a top-side too
maybe we’d better to each other and
God knows there’s no profit in that