deep south 2013
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dsj poetry
Airports are for the weak-at-heart
The ones inevitably out of place the sort
who agonize over spending every piece of foreign change
down to the last penny, pence, or the pinkie moon of the useless 1c euro
and then decimate their equation impulsing on a 2-for-1 deal at an improbably Estonian
WHSmith.
Better yet, airports are for the weak of-heart, more fundamental.
Airports are for me, for my weak preposed heart
for my of-heart, weak, banging against the supercomputer tubing
of Heathrow's makeshift UK/Ireland departures gate, some section added
to some section added to some section added on, properly iterative
my heart, weak, the bug in the system the small
big, how bugs weak the system.
My heart, big
and broke except
for the last blank coin kept safely under
my tongue.
Non-Newtonian inertia
Some the train
hurtling, the fields more
than reference frame
and radial moment plain
from horizon, fields, floor:
sum. The train
itself-hitched, hurtling refrain.
If twist clack and roar,
then reference frame.
The hitch, a pin, an aim:
shift in sync. But circling, the door,
circling the train.
So lines, on the wane.
Yet curve, more false, more a soar
than reference frame.
Still. Fields speed such the same
as a fall, as gravity or
less the train
than reference frame.
Julia Wieting is grew up by Chicago and via the Pacific. She's a postgrad in creative writing at the University of Hawai‘i at Mānoa; other priorities include theorizing the Prime Directive, linguistics, her husband, and her cat.
