one hundred words
in haiku form
while waiting for
my flight on a
sunday evening
in september:
Rochester airport
September Sunday evening
me and three women
80s pop radio
electric piano solo
fluorescent lighting
now another man
sneakers, backwards baseball cap
the sun is setting
PA announcement
the guy's voice croaks like Stallone
a fine disco beat
two smartphones, a book
two pair boots, one pair flip flops
not a conjunction
what will our plane be?
CRJ, Boeing, Airbus?
another man comes
three women, three men
the humans are trickling in
going to Boston
the sun sets slowly
slower than it usually does
suspicious liquids
dinner of junk food
reflection of ceiling lights
in my laptop screen
