Cairo Transit Lounge

October 22, 2007

In the fourth hour our guard kneels down in prayer
That’s the second time since I arrived
The 20 odd Italians moved on some time ago
It’s just me and the old Spanish couple
They don’t know that the time zone changed
They’ll be gone soon and the flies know it

Eventually it’s not worth fighting them
If they stay away from your face it’s easier to ignore them
I lie across the hard metal bench and try to ignore that
With each closing, my weary eyes trigger the intercom
Four languages and I can’t identify one
I’m relying on paranoid delusions to translate for me
But I have time, this isn’t even the half-way mark

The janitor has been here as long as I have
Although the bathroom looks no cleaner
Perhaps he is the clean-up crew when a passenger snaps
I can imagine the walls will eventually stop closing in on me
If I don’t get out in time the intercom will let the janitor know
Unless the flies beat him to me

This post is filed under:
Poetry / Creative Writing

Tags: Creative Writing, Paul Seele, Poetry