Thursday, November 5, 2015

TRAVEL WRITER

It is not!
that he doesn't know
exactly where he's going,

enthusiasm-sized travel mug 
plugged close and doing all the smoking for him,
and strapped sockless (for the tone that sets)
into his kitchen's hazardous best 
go at a sporty rental;

it's just that he's still undecided 
on the most efficient—and yet
ecumenical way to end
up there.

And so—detouring, meanwhile, 
through passive voice back alleys
and ruins of ancient metaphors toppled,

and zigzagging would
and should
and could
and all those other vivid red auxiliary flags—

the enthusiast 
most thoroughly manages—to pique 
the stomach 
of his ideal passenger a little

by showing 
her
only—that stuff which
is not.

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