Sales Flight: Departure/Arrival
The scream runway disembowels memory.
Wrappings hold us in.
My future waits so sure
I do not care.
I am the bull’s eye’s nimbus.
I pluck any magazine.
Color photos flip by
abstracted as past pursuits and panics.
Sunlight powers through the port.
Stewards’ affectations and shadows
light on my frame.
Again bucking when we pull down.
Little children in the seats ahead shout “We’ll make it!”
so wordly-wise with TV-stuffing they are.
This corporate face.
Chuffing crowds and the itchy wools of meetings
that what is next I do not know
though I had practiced it before.
The customer’s ’Mr. Steinberg?”
Harvey Steinberg looks at himself as an artifact of the world rather than the world as an artifact of himself. Harvey submits writings, and over 20 journals in 10 states have published his poems, and occasionally other forms of literature as well. He is now writing theater works and finds this to be the most fulfilling medium (some short pieces have been staged). He will ultimately work toward the creation of quality verse plays and poetic drama. So although retired, he is not deterred.