Ars Poetica

by Sammy Oh

As I go through my day, I take quiet note of any funny situations that I find myself in. These are those situations that seem normal in the moment, but are actually ridiculous with added perspective. Like the moment an alarm goes off on the plane and the first thought I have is of my bags. My poetry gives me a way to pull together these disparate strands of images to highlight the irony of it all. I try to give the reader an authentic view into the thoughts in my mind so that they are swept up into the same moment I was in, only able to take a step back and reflect once the ride is over.

writing poetry is like taking

a flight,

somehow you move

thousands of miles/hour

through the air, but all

you really think about

is the annoying baby

crying in the seat

behind you while

the guy next to

you tries to talk

to you when

you clearly

just want to sleep,

but no,

you can’t sleep because the emergency

alarm has gone off and before you know

it you are fully aware of the speed

because you’re falling, faster and faster,

down into the real world, but soon

enough you forget about the speed at

which you fall and instead worry about

your bags; what will come of your gifts

if the bags don’t arrive on time? What

will you say to your friends? Your family?

You cannot return without them. The

airline better not mess it up like they did

that one time in Chicago. Such terrible

memories. You prep yourself on what

you’ll say to customer service when the

bags don’t get in. Start a bit aggressive

with a hint of desperation, ask to speak

with the manager, no, demand it, but

don’t be too demanding. It’s an art, the

art of complaining. Like any other art

it requires much patience and discipline

in order to fall so fast without even a passing thought about reality.