Game [On] now up at The Metaworker

Leaving by Air

I never saw the airport van coming
it just showed up
wrapped in pre-dawn blue
carting us off in car seat rows of three
sitting straight-faced
immune to our arms and legs
simmering in our suits.

Airports are made for leaving
white corridors of boxed
electric frescos of smiling models
beaming with light-emitting
teeth and I’m losing time
with every step
dragged along on rolling
luggage feet.

Black ribbon intake aisles greet me
with open poles
moving now in ad hoc inches
empty shoes in hand
I stand before the final x-ray
sock-footed
with an actor’s face making my case
for getting through.

I whisper goodbye to my phone
(“I’ll call you tonight.”)
and I am alone
as a runaway child
tromping down the boarding box
holding my handles
finding my row
taking my seat
all strapped in
flying away.

Henry Crawford, from American Software