Frequent Flier

This is the first piece I wrote for a college creative writing course and, incidentally, the first piece I ever tried revising. The revision process didn't go so well for this one, but another poem I wrote later that semester transformed immensely. It went from a weird, right-aligned poem about my first kiss to a circle shape filled with thoughts of "there has to be more than this world". It was definitely a proud moment for me, because I discovered poetry is as mutable as clay, and you always have your original draft so, why not? On a side note, this poem, Frequent Flier was published in my IU's Honors College Literary magazine, also my first publication. Enjoy!

suitcase packed full of useless memories

gloves for when there are no hands to hold

and the lines of poetry that never found the paper;

zipped up tight so airline attendants can’t read

so nobody can read

wrapped in polka dots I pass security

my words are not weapons

I am tagged with a return address

to which I may or may not return

but these red eyes are worth it

so long as there are no tears

I will carry on

I’ll get lost in luggage claim or picked up by a stranger

so I can see the world

be there, do that, say that I did

terminals with foreign faces, I sleep soundly

anywhere my little wheels and zippered dreams will land