“I Told No One”
“A Brief Mention of Where I Am”
I told no one that I left except the landlord.
In the cab to the airport, congratulations to myself
That I had pulled the heist of the year; I left
No footprints, left no dust, and cut the cord.
From one labyrinth to another at the airport
As I joined the lines through booths and steel arches,
Scanners and screeners, delays and brief forced marches
Clinging to my identity reduced to what it says on my passport,
Somehow, I knew I would make it to the plane
And beyond the seat buckle, the single goal
Of the monumental day. What grease and oil
Are to the machine, so the achievement gained
Through single goals. And so to Florida relieved
That nothing’s left but these few days to pray and breathe.