Palma de Mallorca 1992

Those soft sand beaches
and delicious food, the
cathedrals have now been
closed for renovation, it’s
1992 again and we were young-
we sailed the nights and travel
the world, some call us "squids";
I call us nomadic wandering
conformists. We shall fight tooth
and nail, we shall die upon the
high seas for her, that land of liberty.
Blood red Sangría sunsets rue the
day, my love; I leave you now, oh
my love, my Spain, but someday I shall
return whether it be in dreams or upon my
death bed confession, I shall.




Meanwhile in the D.C. Airport

No longer in France-
No longer in Switzerland-

I'm existing again, lingering
in the purgatory of the Nation’s
Capital-

awaiting my flight in D.C.
back to the Midwest, back
into the doldrums of that
familiar life-

I listen to an elderly couple
with very thick Boston accents,
the lady scolds her husband
every time he asks a question.

One time he asks-

How far is it to the bathroom?

She asks a young man nearby,
a non-employee of the airport-

Where's the bathroom at!?

The young man sheepishly
replies-

I think it's halfway down that
corridor ma'am.

The woman asks her husband-

Do yuh think ya can make that
fah!?

Before he can utter a word, she
answers her own question with-

I don't think ya can Morty!

Poor old Mortimer then murmurs-

So, what do we do now, just
wait here?

She sharply replies-

Yes, we wait here, because
there's nothing else to do!

The old man slumps lower
in the airport chair, like a
scolded child waiting his turn
in which to board the aircraft,

his cane is perched on his right
side, his stronger side.



Wayne Russell is the author of the poetry book 2020's Where Angels Fear via Guerilla Genius Press, available for purchase on Amazon; his second book Splinter of the Moon published by Silver Bow Publishing; has just been released and also can be found at Amazon in both Kindle and paperback editions. Wayne has been once nominated for both the Pushcart Prize and The Best of the Net.