Order Soon Van
Soylent Green is peopleRiding the friendly skies two days into the future no less an exaggeration of terms. And to wit with zippers and clothes and socks in holes staying for a luxurious mystery stay in San Francisco.
One day for the tan, two days for the atmosphere to seep in. World weary by the end of the first leg and already a veteran on the return hop. Scratch it up for foreigners and losers of baggage.
Too much trouble to catch up with a cripple cascading legs along giving travelators. Choosing instead to venture into cargo territory of the lost and found and generally unsound. No journey too long without an extra stop over inbetween. Waiting for the call only to hear the rustle of metal planks shove a carousel.
And round and round the baggage goes. When it arrives, only Menzies knows.
Score one for in the rush with combinations useless, unlocking latches on barrels.
Welcome back.
Two days late.
On the concrete soil of the big brown land once again. Catching horse flies in the eyes with the smell of summer spiking beads from the forehead down the side of the face. Three moons among blue grass and a jig up to lock down the loot to fly over the friendly skies again. Quick smart no less.
Thick buzzing swats of jelly belly bean black flies. Chewing out sounds from the air as the drop into the inverted bottle hooks up a sweet trap. Bugs to buzz drowning in water soon murky from their own involvement.
No point in unravelling beyond essentials. One two before the third of it free into the return fare. Coming back home in the wrong direction.
Subscriptions, magazines and letters of notice in mounds of envelopes and registrations to rifle. Months past due, weeks beyond redemption and all over the place. No space on the black and plastic covering up the four legs with a sloop. Clear it out with the read and rinse. Three months is only just a half. And a five on the stack.
Templates ready up for the next shuffle. Plans on execution, the test to rest on.
Squeezing out air knuckle deep in socks and shuffling clothes back and forth. Sweat beads aplenty with space at a premium. Magical expansion pack of zippers run around the edge. Red into the black of light covering darkness as more folds take visions of size and comfort into bails of rolls. Flat to the pack; a flat out elseworld.
Cutting blackboard nails, trimming pathways, losing the wait to carry-on carrying. Order into the chaotic mire from dawn to dusk. Snooze and watch the hours go by. Every passing day another into the blanket, folding tight to plush out height.
Running out of mind, skittish to the end with sweaty mops for the feverish palms handing off another segment in pieces.
