The sign read
"travel beyond this point restricted"
I scanned, looking for an entrance
found between the word "men"
and the usual symbol for "boy"
A girl facing backwards walked forward
on the people mover and giggled
while an older girl laughed and turned to have a try
but feeling silly prevented herself from
In the toilet I got my business finished fast
and left before the shoes in the stall my right
had so much as twitched.
Had they and the calves that stuck out from them
been left behind? Should I call TSA?
A moan of sad regret echoed
and I knew the body was still there, but then
when I exited my stall I saw a Mexican in a straw hat
leaning slightly forward one arm outstretched
hand planted firmly on the tiled wall trying to piss.
And it was this melancholy, absurd humor that carried me
passed hundreds of romance novels
a few Nobel prize winners
and a pile of San Francisco sour dough
selling for six-ninety-nine a loaf.