Seagulls circle like vultures over the parking lot
I have a pizza crust they know nothing about
that I am unwilling to share
She is curled in a ball in my lap in her mind
I don’t mind her pleading for contact
Proximity will have to suffice
I recall a time when all these seats were full to overflowing
standing room only, throttle full open
These days you could spend a day and never see another living soul
I was proud to be here on a holiday once
then disenchanted, now
It doesn’t even register
I will leave a voicemail this evening
Meticulous details of mundane disappointments
Managers circle like vultures over my head.
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