January 16, 2011

In “The Letter,” Alex Chilton 
gravels out “Air-O-Plane.”  
He wants a ticket. 
So do you—to fly 

where you’ll be handsome, 
bright, and athletic.  You 
pop pimples.  The song’s 

under two minutes long.  
The last verse got cut 
from the single—

the plane crashes.  You wish 
you had been on it.  Instead, 
you face 

Kenneth Pobo

Well, we have to begin somewhere, 
right?  Of course not!  
Don’t begin.  
Or end.  
And avoid the middle—
where demons diaper the dead.  
Think of yourself 
as a swing.  
You’re in mid-air, 
nobody pushing.  Somebody 
should be sitting on you.  
You were made for that.  
But you make a small
wind shiver 
as you near clouds.

Kenneth Pobo