Jennifer Anne Champion (b. 1988)
Grab your suitcase. The one you only use when you mean business. When you mean flight and also baggage, enough stubbornness to take you through long haul. The work, the life you are carrying inside, is that delicate balancing act between light and air. How much does a clear mind cost? You must believe in it enough, or this plane gets lost. Is not even dignified with a crash. No ripped teddy bear of consolation. The stewardess is asking if you want to know what’s behind the occupied sign. It turns out it’s the same man taking a shit, trying to make the same mental sum work. He wants to know why you care so intimately about his pain. Open your bag now. Show, don’t tell him, why.
by Jennifer Anne Champion
from Caterwaul (2016)