Terminal

Short poem written at the airport.

Eggshell sky, neon confectionary.
A tip tap tip tap endless cacophony framed the rattle rattle cry rattle sedentary.
as it
-caws for its provider.
Feed me.

Distracted.
The echoing sentience over the PA.
-May the owner of a black BMW please move their vehicle, it’s blocking the way.

Tossing back Anadin like a Scotsman with a caber,
now Evian, ‘wash it down’ more like rinse out that something flavour.

You can take our lives, but you can never take our freedom.
That’ll be twenty pounds
-bags over forty centimetres.

I’m on my own, not alone but alone enough. Enough to hide, hide under the eggshell sky with the ever eternal fluorescent lights.

Reviews

[Raj Sahu]

You have composed a fine work showing the reality of techno-world. Good job!