O'Hare 1.

Hey guys, I'm posting the first poem in a series I wrote after a flight of mine was canceled and I was forced to sit in O'Hare airport for twelve hours during the Christmas holiday. And let me say, it was awesome to sit, dodge plane times, hope for any flight to actually leave the ground, worry about hotels and motels and hostels and bitchy customer service people, angry and ready to eat flattened cheese pizzas. But the poems express more than I can say right here. Also, there is an audio link for each poem (just click on the title of the post). The audio is a collaboration between myself and Jeff D, and hopefully it can give you some of the raw, gut-churning feelings I was experiencing while strung out in the massive airport. Enjoy! Happy holidays! Hurray for nature and United Airlines!


O'Hare 1.

when I saw her lay

upon the carpet of O’Hare,

I praised

heaven for

its

vale of darkness and rain

retaining Chicago

as our Gotham,

keeping

us alive,

injecting us with bile

and spit.

but I am lonely;

but you didn’t

know.

I just want to get home.

metal

wing, runway,

lights of one

thousand

descents

.