"Glare of shoosh"

Glare of shoosh,

Din of protest, personal

and urgent, meaningless

shrieking babies. They know

life is miserable. But we learn

to smile, learn to love the living

hell in our loins, the dull ache

of solitude in the circle

of those who claim to have our back

and tell us we are not

fat. I am a fat fuck

,on an airplane, dreaming

of skewering the tiny larynx

of a baby with a prickly

plastic fork—unrepentant.

5/29/2015

Munich-San Francisco, in transit