Clean out purse. Rub Lush
Breath of God on wrist. People
watch. Tweet. Post. Kill me.
Long layover, Part 2: Hour 3
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Clean out purse. Rub Lush
Breath of God on wrist. People
watch. Tweet. Post. Kill me.
How long can I sit
nursing a small coffee ’til
I’m kicked to the curb?
We all crave power,
connection. Squat shamelessly
for that next tech fix.
Boingo charged me eight
bucks for all-day internet.
Sucker born right here.
Want my business? Give
me outlets, internet, booth
seating and, yeah, food.
At every gate
we jockey for outlets, our
iPhones running low.
I draft spreadsheets, each
detail a talismanic
ward of protection.
I can’t know who I’ll
be tomorrow cramped and shoved
in a carry-on
tomorrow between
Chicago Phoenix I’ll be
a dot in the sky
Spun as adventure,
it’s a long hard drive with a
heartbroken daughter.