Beware: where the air is thin

And the sun shines in

Like a smile through a lie

Thoughts can run rampant , collide

Like keystone cops, taking pratfalls,

Bruising logic and pride, scraping

Empirical knees on intuitive rocks. It’s easier,

Somehow, at 30,000 feet

To believe in faeries, monsters, and gravity.

The rough logic of fear slips loose with

A rude betrayal of physics, conks common sense on the head,

Takes its lunch money and runs. Beware: The controlled slip

Of descent will feel

Like an open ended freefall; the noise of flaps

And access panels

Operating within normal parameters will sound

As if they are cleaving off or bursting open. Fear not: the air

Holds up this iron bird; the air in San Diego

Must be as solid. Be a brave heart among the 61,000;

we need a yellow-eyed philosopher

Among the dreamy commuters. Keep your wits about you, trust

In the Boys at Boeing, and repeat after me: your seat cushion will serve

As a flotation device, your seat cushion will serve

As a floatation device; take a deep breath, place your head between your knees,

And trust me, I know this to be true: your plane will safely land.

Faeries are fake; monsters are mythic;

There is no demon

In the thin air.