My world is big(gest)
surrounded by slumber, and glaring seatbelt signs,
the crying and fussing
lulled by the droning sound of stagnant air.
eyes pinching, I lift the window shade.
Tiny complexes house
neon green swimming puddles with sloping waterslides and diving boards
coaxing combs for dolls’ hair
and roaring tow trucks propelling life forward at a stunning rate of
never-getting-outta-here.

Your world is big(ger)
focused in on the stain on your spaghetti strap (way to go.)
or running that bobby pin through your hair
as your fingers would
through Bobby’s hair.
glancing upwards,
you see a blinking jet
and think just how big your life is—
until the blinking lights of a huge tow truck roars by,
propelling life forward.