evanbrowndc

 

I’ve been here so many times,
I can tell you the process.
And even how to navigate
the terminals to success:

Choose a right or left lane,
ID at the ready, make your way past
the wasted waters,
Larger-than-3-ounce
tubes of toothpaste, 
and other absurd toiletries.
Then just three more frisks,
and your vetting is done, you’re in.

Just remember to bring lots of cash,
As the exchange rate isn’t so good any more.
Money doesn’t buy what it used to.

Stand at the window where it comes in for a landing with a scream:
the silhouette of Watergate scandals,
Raincoats and red ties, charcoal suits
With hidden pockets sewn extra large for documents.

This is the driveway on which the seat of government
parks its lazy rich fat ass.

The deplaning process heard over the loudspeaker
in a fake Big Brother chirp:
Thanks huddled masses for giving us your cash.
Just don’t ask us to do anything useful with it.

Planes and Politicians: both the same.

Exit decaying reporters faded beige cameramen
meld with ultra-starched pundit pilots
in shiny shoes, all rushing toward the same bathroom
after such a long flight.

Look at those linoleum floors
that even after two full terms of bleaching,
will never ever get clean. 

 

From inside stall two: A whiff of elementary school
pink lotion-soap, the near smell, the almost lather,
on a toilet you realize too late, has a broken flush,
and a pervert with a wide stance sitting next to you.

And just outside the lavatory stench 
By gate B3, a laid-over Indian family
sits on the ground foraging through their carry-ons
for the last crumbs of snack-aid
that won’t last until ten this evening,
never mind Mumbai or next year.

Then it’s more gibberish from the white house intercom:
Another flight cancelled. Delays.
Perhaps a crash or two in the name of freedom.
 
Thank you for flying Reagan National Airport,
Or as I like to call it: Terminal USA.

Where hope lies forsaken in the overflowing trash can
by the security line next to the
bored TSA agent with the blue surgeon’s gloves,
Who tells the world, ten thousand times a day:
“Next time leave your oversized at home.”

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