Gate C37 (Awake)

Lines composed while not sleeping during a layover at YVR. From the author’s journal…

GATE C37 (AWAKE)

awake but not alive.

fluorescent lights aglow

escalators go

faster as I approach;

as fast as regular speed.

fast enough to sweep away my feet.

sleepy me,

my sandbag eyes

cut curtains where saints go to die;

awake but not alive

in an empty airport, free

as you like,

a land between

all of the deaths

I have not yet,

and ‘I’.

in endless transit,

laying over,

from runway noise

to the hills at Dover;

awake but not alive

they take off for the lands of the dead,

while I twist,

while I turn,

and torture my neck

trying to rest my head.

restless as a restless grave,

a body without a soul to save.

after hours,

still

in motion,

half lonely ghost,

half hemlock potion;

half alive,

fully awake.

pray the ocean my soul to take.

pray death deny the man

a wake.

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