Transit

We share a sky
With gibbous moon —
Watching patchwork earth
Slip beneath the wing,
Staggered by
Its magnitude.

Get in line
To get in line
To get in line —
Throngs of bodies
For study —
A glazed-eye passage
From here to there.

And it’s like usual
When confronted —
We are stricken
By rules that
Never took,
History that leads
To sensible shoes.

Arbitrary stopping points
On the continuum.

Try to maintain
A buffer
For your outer limit.
Do not cross
Into the man in front.
Cringe
When the one behind pushes,
Coughing.

Now strip
For the machinery
That comforts
Or confounds.
Silent nod.
Pass through
And reassemble yourself.

And now wait,
To wait,
To wait.
And wait some more —

Nodding off
In spite of
The man in the middle
Who’s trying to sneak
Glances down your shirt —

While the herd
Flows in and out
The metal chutes.

(flight to Las Vegas)

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About Emily

I may or may not have: A. Dirt B. Ink C. Paint D. Wool under my fingernails.

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