Why? - You'll Know Where Your Plane Is

hahahaha, hahahahahaha, hahahaha, hahahahahaha...
i haven't yet written the scenes that make up my movie,
so i freestyle and eat myself inanimate.
look in the barely breatheable diarama shoebox real close now,
look you can see me.
i am in the dollhouse chair with the perpetually fastened saftey belt.
or maybe i'm pinned to styrofoam, put on display for my friends and neighbors,
wings extended, help me now.
hahahaha, hahahahahaha, hahahaha, hahahahahaha...

on my nineteenth etched perpetual circle path,
i've opened ears to the humming air melody
of sitting in the same displaced solvent that some distant relative,
who dropped me where i sit, sat.
he stopped for a moment,
dwelling on my thousand year descendant bloody birth, yeah.
entering a niche, like the normal setting notch on my world's brightness knob.
i click to a halt,
where i'm sure he stopped thinking of me sharing the space,
so many circles later, in the slighting time of the same shape shifting.