September 12

When I turned my iPhone back on as we taxied to the gate
preparing for a dash for my connecting flight
a voicemail had arrived:

The following is important information about your flight
which has been cancelled due to an earlier cancellation
due to weather in your area.

And this is how they told me I’d be emerging from the airport
an abstractly secure place with seemingly no connections
to the city around it

and negotiating with a native american woman
driving a Honda Odyssey with Super 8 vinyl lettering
do you have rooms?

And still I felt safer there than I’d done the day before
in a sterile concourse lacking only the words

on the sterile walls. Only the voice of some Orwellian god
droning every few minutes in the interest of airline security
all passengers are reminded to…

do nothing as you would do in a normal sort of world
and yet the interesting conversations with strangers
are so often in a seat

strapped into an aluminum tube and hurtling toward something.

Bright Spot in a Dark Commute

A bank called Friend A cyclist going the wrong way Buildings loom in their neo colonial backlit splendor Let Your Child Skip School And You’ll Be Talking to the DA a sign tells us from the parking lot of a casino the Governor couldn’t shut down And there are signs everywhere: personal injury lawyers, drugs, […]


It was always such a lonely road
horses cars bicycles then in later years
mostly pickups and tractors
I never saw no one who wasn’t
from around here until

the people came with little screens on the windshield.
Slick sports cars eighteen wheelers
drivin’ hard to get somewhere else
I had one stop to walk up to my porch
laughing – is this the road to Destin?
you’ve got to be kidding, old man.

I said I didn’t know – I’d never been.