8.23.2020

I haven’t seen you since you poured acid on my heart and fed it to those barn owls

1. At Philadelphia International Airport, they have rocking chairs placed at 
strategic intervals. 2. Delayed for hours, I wanted to rock, rock, rock, and 
rock. 3. But the chairs were all taken so I used my carry-on as a pillow and my 
coat as a blanket, and fell asleep at an unused gate. 4. Twenty minutes later, 
a full flight arrived at the gate and disembarked. 5. Most folks ignored me, 
lying in the corner, but one man smiled and waved. I waved back. He hurried 
over to me. 6. “Oh,” he said. “I thought you were somebody I went to high 
school with.” 7. This was before Facebook, when the best social network was 
running into old friends and lovers in airports. 8. “Oh, my God, I haven’t 
seen you since you poured acid on my heart and fed it to those barn owls.” 
9. Among the innumerable people and ideas murdered on 9-11: Arriving and 
departing travelers can no longer share tearful goodbyes or ecstatic reunions at 
the gate. 10. Yes, it happens just outside security, but it’s not the same, damn 
it. 11. Because the arriving fliers have had time to use the restroom, make a few 
phone calls, and stretch their legs on the long walk toward baggage claim. They 
have reclaimed the earth after hours in the sky. 12. Because the departing fliers, 
having checked in at least an hour before departure, and disrobed for security, 
must wander the airport alone. Their leave-taking is extended, even distorted. 
13. And O, here we are again in the sad-ass cell phone waiting lot: “Call me 
when you’ve reached baggage claim but before you’ve claimed your bags.” 
14. Circling the airport, I look down to see my neighborhood. I look for my 
house. And there it is. Somewhere between my abode and the airport, my wife 
and sons are driving to meet me. I’ve only been gone two days but I hope they 
break through the gate, run along the runway, and leap high enough to see me 
through the airplane windows. 

[Sherman Alexie {1966- } 'Sonnet, with Public Address System', from What I've Stolen, What I've Earned]

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