Trouble in The Office

Out of Office: In Bangkok for Business

Wait…
Gate N5 Closed. Sitting on a cold, gray, metal bench
Its only consolation is perforation
Meant to ventilate stifled bodies.
Are tensions included in the roll of treatments?
Because I’m wound up like a clock’s inner mech
On the airport wall; tangled like strands of wavy hair
Of the Visayan girl standing aside the x-ray machine

Break…
The stinging chill of a very early morning
Where the sun was a bit late on the rising
With bossa nova, sung by Sitti with a fake accent
Shut the world out
with a pair of silver earphones
attached to a Dell with half the power
leaking warmth onto my lap
I dissolve in beach-inspired tempos –
Tattooed on my mind, one note sambas
Lost in space like I wasn’t looking for love.
And I want to be alone like it’s okay hand-carrying
Bags that should’ve been checked in anyway

Reel…
At the thought that iPods haven’t included in its list
Of claims its one singular benefit to humankind –
Spoils the beginning of conversation.
A man seated opposite, his back to me
Has been trying to catch my eye since eight o’one
While his wife is an impatient beige at the Delifrance queue.
But now she’s here
she’s kissing his hair
he’s casting looks of despair

at me?
Want me?
To save you?

Get a fully charged iPod.
Either you use it to be indifferent
Or she does to find better use of her time.
Plug and play, it’s that easy.
In the meantime, I’d better shut down.
It’s near boarding, and the man next to me
In a suit is looking over my shoulder.

posted by Elyss @ 6:23 PM