Well, when you are special, you get an extra pack of peanuts....Two!. How does the other half live?
I am stopped, a salt block,
licked by the sun's dusty tongue,
a woman of Pompeii, overtaken
by my own delay, my body cast
in mud and ash.
airport 80 miles
The sign makes a convenient
marker for the tow service.
They'll know where to find me,
if they ever come.
Like Archimedes clock,
a train whistle cups the silence,
returns it in ever slowing drops
until the self-saluting sound
of things that run on schedule
fades at last.
Ninety per cent of life
is just showing up and the other ten
is for survival, knowing when to leave
and never looking back.
I haven't enough days left
in my pockets to pay the past's debts.
So, I'll just catch my breath
beneath the sign
that tells me how far I have to go,
but nothing about departure time.