FLY

leave a country for another
so
easy

climb into a machine that shoots itself
into
the
high cold black
for
small cool dinners and microwave hot towels

fall down into a sea scape of orange glitter
and
climb out into a still quiet world
a
shining
sterile
labyrinth
of teleported bags
and 
show another machine
a
likeness
of
your
face

no one says OI! or WOOHOO!
or
shakes your hand 
or
even 
taps you on the shoulder

in recognition of this feat

at
all