943

chased a kid through a terminal
well he ran away from his mother
don’t mistake me
he forgot where he was
and I wanted a medal
for a stranger’s deed

I only feel at home
running through airports
inhaling strange smoke
in a glass box
with pilots
and the ground crew

I don’t know what it means
when the mother hugs me
tears and all
I scratch my head
and look at the boy
with the vacant eyes

that’s a way to lose a flight

I’m not well intentioned
most days
most days
most days
I’m so bored
with sleep
and skin

give me cheap coffee
and overpriced beer
at a bar in a county
airport that has more
cockroaches than people