thomas m wilson

A Helicopter Over Suburbia

July 8th, 2009

In suburbia many aspire to brick and tile. Busy and benighted, donning the blindfold of activity
all the long day through.

Each night the citizens retire.  Recline.  Lift the blindfold for a moment, and then catch…

slant cant, on a screen.

What is this thing called life?

Silence.  No, wait, I can hear a noise approaching…

It is a helipcopter.
I can hear its blades cutting the air with powerful precision.

Again and again.

We are living in the developed world, but below the wisdom poverty-line.

And nobody is dropping down a first-world aid package from the craft that is passing in the dark night’s sky above.