Pajama Party

Just Say a Nice Thing Because We Might Die Today

Credit my simple self for protesting sleep in the past twenty-four hours Grace on a warm friend who weighs an earth to me for carting my body over here Shout out to the single Father escorting his wide-eyed youngster full way to board so she can cross solo to meet her Mother on the other side for the holidays Nod at his lament as he marks her leave Props to the serf who made her feel safe and as rare as she deserves Holler at the beautiful cracking sky this dayspring Cat-call the Rocky Mountains and this sunrise cascading them Gratitude to the gatekeeper being kind toward me and spotting my egregious unease What up to the dapper flight attendant bearing French name, alluring locks and a dashing smile. I’d just like to say, “Hey baby, what’s your number?” Acknowledgement to the verity we can fly, that this aircraft exists and I am surrounded by its hurried metals and serene steels. Cat call the corpus of traces in snow from 20,000 feet in the air which form similarities to a cartoon walrus Shout out to that baby for not crying Never mind Shout out redacted and awarded to the man ahead of us, already in sleep with his mouth wide open. Add in a sturdy shout to the only two strangers sharing conversation on his plane, filled with less than humble brags on the subjects of Morocco, south-east Asia and the learn of rarest rocks. Hitting on the sound of your voice. High-five for keeping me keen so I do not miss the fact I am alive right now beside a glorious nimbus! Sizeable shout to being beneath the clouds before reaching their level and at last aloft. We sit on soil once more Shout out to my Father for showing to unite on this new end with a beard of Walt Whitman’s thundered on his chin. Shout out again to him to being wise to that reference. Thank you to “Dead Poet’s Society” for being the cause of this and a second thanks for it being a wondrous film I think of you in thoughts of me, tossing onto your side. Could have sworn you were the light from under my door tonight. I will stay awake come morning in these thoughts while researching the history of aviation

Justin Chase Jones, 28, Calgary, Alberta, Canada