Your life is a suitcase
unhappy dreamy spirals,
exploding at airports; high
cramped coach longings and
mile-high wet bar fantasies of
shibari walnut girls,
pedestrians waiting in
neon traffic isles of
shimmering techno warning signs
and rushing strollers
Antarctica isolationist waiting
for zen jet-set moments
perfect bathroom strangers
cocks fondled through
cheap wool trousers
eyes look away
from slot in latched doors
crisp whirring of exhaust
fans, blasting off
in porcelain marbled industrial
halls rinsing blood and cum
landscapes of flying corpses
in space.
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