Because Yesterday I Jumped Out of a Plane


      In what turned out to be a bizarre and even comic drama yesterday, a Philippine Airlines jet with 278 passengers and 13 crew members was hijacked by a man who, armed with a hand grenade and a gun, robbed the passengers and later jumped out of the plane while it was flying over Antipolo.

                     - Philippine Daily Inquirer

          A dream of flying. At the edge of our world, a wish to grow wings. At the sight of the heavens, envy, pure, permanent. Why do clouds move with such ease and grace? Why do nights reveal stars to fail our wishes? Come look our way. People who ask my mother why I hijacked and parachuted from a plane should stay here a day to see what it's like. The news crew came, heavy with cameras, paper and questions, because you really ought to know. Never long enough to stay near a sewer and look around. Our lives are shadowed by clotheslines. Our street signs are the drunks at the corner bends, a giant maze littered with desires for love that never came. Our children run around laughing; their cries no longer convince anyone of their hunger. Is it so disturbing that I boarded a plane and held it up for a thousand pesos? That wouldn't buy a day's meal as we know it. When I opened the door and jumped to my death, I knew on the other side I would learn how to fly. How light I felt then. Yet wingless still. Learning how to float, to become one with the winds and death. Oh, death. Death has many reasons for being-what I could never explain then, I know now. So the next time you look at the skies and find something speeding your way, think of a falling star. Make another wish, your first one perhaps? It could very well be me visiting again. I will listen to you. Whisper in your ears the reasons why you should grow wings on land. The way there are many reasons why death is meant to be.




    Bio Note
      Bino A. Realuyo's work and poetry has appeared in THE NATION, THE LITERARY REVIEW, NEW LETTERS, MANOA and THE KENYON REVIEW. He has received a Lucille Medwick Memorial Award from Poetry Society of America. He lives in Manhattan and on the net at www.geocities.com/realuyo


     


     Bino

     Realuyo