dig_those_sunsets_pony.txt

Dig Those Sunsets, Pony - Hanif Abdurraqib

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=tRZxQFhBSuw

so i'm on this plane.
but i don't really do heights, right,
like, freshman year in college, i damn near flunked out
first semester fucking with the top bunk in my dorm
i just laid there the whole time
in this blanket fort i made
i wrapped it in my mother's prayer beads
and my father's guilt
i called the thing childhood
and it was really hard to go outside

but i'm still on this plane, right,
so i'm like, thirty thousand feet in the air
with overutilized sweat glands and underutilized window seat
and this old woman next to me
she's seen too much, you know, you could feel it
she wears it like kevlar now
she's got eyes like the last ditch effort of a mason jarred firefly
headphones are coiled around her neck
kissing loudly
and i could tell she's listening to this nirvana song, right,
but i can only make out every three words or so
so it sounds like, like
hey, i've got a new, priceless, news.

this woman is sizing me up like a prize fighter, you know,
she leans in real close and she's all
"you nervous honey?"
and in my head i'm just like, no, i just like
testing the durability of my nails some days, right,
but before i can say anything
she takes her hand
and puts it on my chest
and it's wrapped in riot hoses, and poplar tree bark
and the fresh, violent sun of southern summers and she says
goddamn, boy... you got a firing squad in there tonight.
whole lot of guilty men at their disposal
yeah i've known people with hearts like these in my life

but i'm not really listening to her, you know,
i'm still trying to make out the nirvana song she's listening to
but i could still only hear like every three words
so now it sounds like, like
wait, i've got a new, heart-shaped, cancer

and this plane
is rattling us like ice cubes kissing the desert floor of a whisky glass
this woman doesn't even move, she just leans in closer and says
you know, you're too young to fear the rumble of metal and engine,
this is what your generation used to carve the bees
that will swallow us whole
your generation of metal, and engine
do you now fear the silver lining your own pockets
do you shake at the avalanche of adulthood
do you tremble at the idea of being swallowed alive in this monster

and i say... no.
no, i fear... the sky.

so, so the woman says,
what has the sky ever done to you that a lover has not?
have you not been recklessly carried
have you not given up control to trust something with wings
have you not found your heart held in the jaws of something stainless
high above a chorus of treetops, and city lights, and brilliant molecules of water

and then she says,
what is the sky?
and i say, ok... the sky is a big, blue, top bunk.
and she says - that ain't it.
child, what is the sky if not a lover arched around your body like
st. louis underneath a drum roll of fireworks
what is the sky if not a lover's arms
and i say
okay, so maybe i don't fear the sky
maybe i fear the alone my body will feel
when the sky decides to let me go.

and she takes her hand off my chest
holds it up against the window, pushes it real deep
and she says
look at this, look at this, child...
from up here, everything pure and white is magnificent and unbreakable and holy
from up here, we all have such amazing bones.