Checked in and
reading my newest, favorite book
It’s like carving a block,
which I also find pleasurable.
Sculpting, extracting the plot page by page
I chip away through to Chapter 3
It Ends With Us
I want to savor it, pass the time with
My indulgence of this
Bloody Mary: it’s really the olives and celery, healthy tomato spicy-salted vibes, soaked with Cutwater vodka,
Lemon and lime:
a wino’s salad.
But there is a legacy here, a history: Ballast Point
They created this Cutwater vodka
I used their bathroom last week!
another story for another poem. very regional.
Gelato store didn’t have a loo.
This was my introduction.
But I digress from here, as I’m about to fly.
I’m reading
about the cute, homeless man-teenager
that the protagonist
Takes Pity on, and herself so young, she
lusts.
Maybe it’s the curiosity and the mystery
Surrounding the circumstances
people find themselves in.
Him, a high school senior, homeless.
the boy with the husky-blue eyes,
worthy of being in a book.
She, an observer…
In the distance, I see
planes taxi in while others taxi to runway
I share the bar with other travelers,
Other Bloody Marys, and Espresso Martini twins. 2 sets. That’s 4 Espresso Martinis on the bar block.
It’s how people inspire one another. Get an idea,
and Relax.
A woman with a 5 year old
lost her ID and they wanted her to come in
4 hours early.
Patience for a 5 year old, is cultivated..
not natural.
There’s a code with travelers,
It’s unspoken.
But we do speak.
Our words carry more when we know—
“I will never see you again”
It’s the edge we are living on,
Like the seats.
As I brace my hip on the stool,
Protecting my back,
wanting to be more able to travel to exotic
locales in the future, like I once did.
Cuba. Was a surprise, but I’m so far from
that now. From Castro, from my 20s. From contemplating
Afghanistan. What a mess.
Los Angeles is my destination; and I know
Why it’s the City of Angles now…
Because it waits for us to fall.
An urban jungle of scavengers tangled with celebrity, sneaky seagulls, and azure sky.
This is where
The Homeless and the Home-Excessive
“Co-exist.”
There’s another plot here,
if you imagine it,
Taking off like a plane…
It eventually swims with the clouds,
glares with the mist of the light and sun.
If you have the window seat,
Which I do not.
It’s a short flight, and I have my book.
Books create worlds within worlds
We are both “here and there.” Mind’s resplendent, transcendent ability
to shift into multi-dimensional drive
at any time. No road or signals needed.
Airports are bustling cities, built for serendipity, for the observations of passers by
from the stationary. A contrast of moves and stays.
This is why airports are filled with both amusement,
and potential,
fleeting frustrations and happenstance.
Sleepers and baggage wheels,
Silence and suffering children.
A unique slice of humanity is the
Airport experience.
Boredom and Business mix.
Electronics and mindfulness, stretching, running.
Just get there on time.
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