Saturday, 6/12/10 - Motion

Seas of people,
Coming in
              in waves,
                            Going out
                                          like the tide.



Constant motion.



Funneled, the flow eddies near exits,
Pools in pubs and pizzarias,
Collects in cocktail lounges,
Trickles into T-shirt shops,
Sluices past stores and sandwich shops,
Babbles into bookstores,
Navigates around news stands,
Finally floating free and finding airside.



Airside...

Yo-ho'ing into cell phones,
Corporate pirates, with their adventures ended,
tell tales of all they have pillaged and plundered.

International vagabonds,
Bodies contoured by too many ports,
Slump,
And prop their feet on roll-aboards.

Everyday adventurers,
Reflect exotic destinations,
In their far away stares.

Home bound hobos,
Huddle together,
Holding their breath,
Hoping to hear,
Their call for boarding.

Suited businessmen with battered baggage,
Sit, laps topped with laptops,
Coffee cups propped between knees,
Confer, hands-free, with colleagues,
In home ports,
And across the seas.