Flew cross-country yesterday, arriving in Seattle at dinner time. After several wonderful West Coast beers and a burger, my East coast biorhythms took hold: “It’s almost 11 p.m., nimrod! Go to sleep!” I did just that, totally forgetting the poem at all. At least there are “four.”

AIRPORT HAIKU

Non Sequitur

"If you listen to
music, you must use headphones
or mute your speakers."

Airport Cool

Act like you've been here
before, but hang onto your
sense of innocence.

You Could Have Walked

She pumps her arm up,
down; he mimics her with his
left arm: Oh! Fitbits!

Meaningless Schedules

Late again leaving 
gate. When all flights arrive late
Aren't they all on time?

---

81/100
100 poems in 100 days