| Harriet Monroe, ed. (1860–1936). Poetry: A Magazine of Verse. 1912–22. | | | | Aero-laughter | | By Robert M. McAlmon |
| | From “Flying”
YOU’VE never laughed | |
| Until the world | |
| Has been beneath you | |
| A mosaic map of lines and dots, | |
| Called roads and mountains | 5 |
| By minute moving spots | |
| Named men. | |
| The jollity | |
| Of this petty panorama! | |
| |
| When your plane, | 10 |
| Overcome with mirth, | |
| Ripples in air pockets | |
| With uncontrollable lurches, | |
| Nosing down with a dart | |
| To frighten the tiny earth; | 15 |
| Then recovers, fleeting | |
| To heights beyond eyes’ seeing, | |
| Far from ears’ hearing, | |
| You are all tense | |
| With the comedy of life | 20 |
| And the world’s being. | |
| |
| At night the stars | |
| Chortle gleefully with you. | |
| The moon beams, | |
| Benignly sharing your joy. | 25 |
| Thinking: “I laugh! | |
| The world?—rather one world, | |
| The buffoon of them all.” | | | | |
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