(Photo by Allen Quiles, No Title)
I Drag my Index Across the Air
How can I clear the sky?
For you, I would love to perform the great act,
Of clearing the sky.
If I can drag my index like a finger wand,
And swipe across the air like the wizard of oz,
You would witness a life changing sight,
And your life may, well nigh
never be tamed.
Or am I another tunnel troll,
Who stubbornly sprout out of the dirt,
And waves his hand with an unstoppable flap,
Spitting out saliva mixed with words,
Announcing the secret order I have found inscribed,
About some ordinary thing which I have never seen.
The sky is so tall and high.
It is long gray and blue, fixed with a giant burn,
Damped with the sticky cotton plumes,
Hanging in, down low, clinging by the moment they drool.
It stretches through day and night,
And it crosses from sea to sea.
No matter how loose or tight,
There is always a sight to see.
The talks about the sky is the oldest talk,
As there has ever been talks.
We talk about it in the day,
And we talk about it in the night.
The Egyptians has 5 thousand words for the sky,
And the poet has a short poem for the sight.
We cannot cling to it,
For no matter how high,
The satellites fly,
It hung beyond, in a space we may not survive.
We cannot fling it away,
As if just to say,
“Shoosh shoosh, enough with the looking up.”
So why don’t you believe,
Now is just as well as ever,
For me to drag my index across the air?
I’ll stretch my body with a lounging post,
And my wave will be so light.
You will not even feel the pain.
You will feel a slight cut,
Like the surgical knife,
slithering over the skin and leaving a distinctive mark.
I cannot tell you what to do with the wound.
May it heal or may it rot?
I can only swipe my index,
As the sky floats away with a new fold sky.
May 10, 2023
Kado
Photo by Allen Quiles//@goinpeacecapturetheworld
There is always a character in Allen’s photo, and the sky is acting mighty and unruly over Co-op City Blvd in a 2022 summer day. Judging from the low hanging contrail, there was probably a four engine commercial jet landing somewhere in the many airports of New York City, and Co-op City is a working class neighborhood in the Bronx. Driving to LaGuardia International takes about 30 minutes in the middle of the day. There was probably a young flight mechanic living in Co-op City, commuting back and forth, and maintained the jet.
The high bypass turbofan engine that are common in commercial jets is known for the volume of air it is able to gulp per-minute. F=MA. High bypass turbofan engine trade off acceleration with mass to produce the thrust that jets the 20 ton metal across the sky. It leaves a expansive plume of contrail as the hot jet exhaust meets the cold blue sky, and leaves a vapor trail. I wonder this would be a sight the young flight mechanic from Co-op city saw when he/she looked skywards to the domain of his/her fruit of work. I have not heard any accident in New York City as of 2022. He/she did a decent job to keep the city safe, and the sky mighty fine.
The sky and the weather is one of Allen’s favorite thing to shoot. Sometimes it canvases behind a high-rising building. Sometimes it was just there, with nothing else in sight. This photo is one of Allen’s rare photo where, the traffic pole, the building, and the tree, the earthly things which we live among, frames around the sky as it unfolds its might.
Independent review on Allen Quiles’ Instagram album is scheduled to publish next week.