Tuesday, April 18, 2017

Big Man

Letting go
Releasing him to his own devices
A cage of screams and jeers
A maze of obstacles and children running frantically.

He returns to me
Clutching a companion cube
Without beckoning
He knows where I've been
Even if I'm unsure the journey that brought him back.

I sit patiently, waiting for a glimpsem
A sign
That he is alright.
The burden of a parent is worry, no greater blessing then to find it unfounded.

Here within the padded bars of chaos,
Innocent aggression and micro chasms of sociality.
I watch the helicopters hover
And hope I know when and how to let go of control well.

the truth is I know, I'll never know how and when to let go.


Red eye
With barely a wink
He's holding up
But his ears begin to pop as
We descend.

Exhausted he finally gives back into the rest that eluded him through the night.

I know I never sleep well in flight.
To many expectations of destinations, to little leg room, stacked vertically like dominoes, some excuse of economics,
crush em in closer to maximize profits, I can't complain, the Gain is cheap travel.

That moment you come to the conclusion

I hate travel, I only like destinations.

My ass is sore and my body edgy, my mind as cramped as my feet, things fly by too quick for appreciation, they drained the feeling of freedom and excitement, locked Windows and doors, a plane on rails, touring through back alleys, factories, graffiti. Traveling backwards with half a window to look through, stomach twisting with every bend we come to, it should be illegal to sell such a shitty version of what could be a much better experience.