Did I mention I’m Going to New York?

Yes, twice in fact and I hate you for doing that,
when you know I sit at a wooden desk,
like any other Hopper woman looking out
watching new birds experiment in aviation.

When I sit smoking menthols and even planes
mock me, tapping out with their bright-high lights
You’re. Not. Going. Anywhere. So. There.
Why does every train route pass an airport?

I can’t even click accept to a Facebook event,
because on every wall the first post is by someone
apologising for being in Moscow, going to Berlin
still in Australia, not back from Morocco...

Stay there - in these places I haven’t been to yet.
I have a list. I’m working through it. I’ve done it
and each time you’re sad you remember the ticket -
well when you get back it’s been stamped.

I have planned my escape route from my office.
I have emailed a friend. We were going to go
last week. Then I remembered I haven’t
even renewed my passport. That’s not the reason

I am disillusioned. It is that I didn’t realise.
I filled in a form for a round the world flight
The woman got back promptly and asked
for the dates. How rude of her

to try and catch my daydream in a net
and analyse it. I replied: I have no money
and no passport. It was a Monday morning,
I was just wondering.