Concourse A

Let me curl up with this book,

Let me fold in on myself,

Let me carve out a sliver of comfort in the corner

Of this goddamned airport

Oh to the sounds of the airport waiting to be somewhere else

To the sounds of the perpetual coming and going and the plastic dust pans sweeping

To the clatter of machinery conveying cargo, to the voices lathering unclean floors

In this indistinct place we are all loosed from ourselves, mere passengers

From the agent on the other side of the desk no more than a surname

We are all of us going places and nowhere fast

To the numbing of the reader boards and the trance-like queues

To the TSA workers with their trousers and their gloves

To the patterned carpeting and fluorescent lamps, the stanchion posts and retractable belts

Here we are, nowhere, in between: a jumble of names over the intercom unheard

A metaphor for all existence, passengers, here for a time and then gone.

Categories: poetry, writing

Tags: , ,

12 replies

  1. You have explained “life” with a graspable metaphor … maybe better dubbed “comparison” since actual airport experience is accurately reflected. Wow. Chuckled several times while nodding! I’ve not been in an airport for several years (hoping never again) but I vividly recall past repetitions. ALWAYS when there wishing I weren’t there! The difference with life overall is that there are spans when I’m exhilarated to be where I am … even while acknowledging that it’s only for a while, till I’m gone.

    Liked by 2 people

  2. Yes, yes, yes. The ultimate liminal space. : )

    Liked by 2 people

  3. Excellent! And I really like how line 4 sets the tone.

    Liked by 2 people

  4. ‘The Journey Not the Arrival Matters’ – perhaps not such a good title for a bio in the Covid – Security tinged era?

    Liked by 2 people

  5. Catching up on blogs after three weeks away from home. Had a 5-hour layover today in Seattle Airport and spent most of it in concourse A!

    Liked by 1 person

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