By Nicola Scholes

I dreamt I missed a plane

I had too many passports and

I was kept at the check-in

I listened to the attendant’s health-problems

We both knew I could miss my plane


I bolted to the gates

My plane was moving but

it stopped and let me in


We drove down city streets

Moved a car with our mighty nose

Our wings smashed into buildings

People rushed out like disturbed ants

I jumped out when it was over


I was going to miss my plane again

I found a toilet, expelled some worries

Finally I found my plane

“It’s the same one!” I exclaimed

The attendant let me in – blood under the seats

Faces frozen intact

Hands still upright in the brace position

Ghoulish statues – I had survived


The attendant was busy so

I took my place among the living dead

and hoped for the best


Nicola Scholes is an Australian poet and is the author of Dear Rose (Small Change Press 2009). Her poems have also appeared in the journals The Broadkill Review (USA), Cordite, Hecate, Stylus, and the books Hibiscus and Ti-Tree: Women in Queensland, and Poems in Perspex: Max Harris Poetry Award 2007.

Comments are closed.