Aeroport

Here I am again, writing words on a phone, with a pen
Can’t read the screen anymore
Into the bin with the bottles of all those liquids that are not bombs
Those not fires and the not weapons
Take my shoes, take my ticket, take my time and my pulse
It beats, it beats unsteadily above the constant background noise yawn
Above the roaring arrivals and screaming departures it beats
Then there’s these heavy eyelids camped around sandy, sticky eyeballs
With faintly luminous, red rims – classic aeroplane attire
Squatting inside CatchyName! magazine
Fasten seat belt while seated, 安坐时请扣上安全帶
Waiting for them to call row numbers like auctioneers dressed in clown costume

27D. Excuse me, excuse me
Then up, up and far, far away

I could look down at the rapidly shrinking houses and streets and street lights
I might even recognise what part of what city I am passing over this time
But I’m writing this thing in my head and in danger of forgetting it
Or some of it and need to write it down
Can’t find my phone anywhere though
And then the engines are screaming so sweetly
Tolling the roaring song of the rolling sky
And the tempo is beating, but it beats so slowly
Enchanting, hypnotising, sleepy
It beats, it beats, so steady, as she goes

March 2010 Derek Wilson

~ by Derek Wilson on March 14, 2010.