Business Class

by Aidan Andrew Dun

cyborg 4

People bouncing around the planet
like three-dimensional yoyo’s
on a squash-court of international airports.

The angular quality of movement today
reflected in sidetracked lives where
everything happens too fast.

A universe unravels as bodies out-of-phase
collide painfully in aching extremities
modern influenza caught travelling.

Magnates cross the sky business-class
names briefly engraved on clouds by lasers
by men with holographic epaulettes.

Only these are too good to touch the earth
too rarefied for our blue sphere.
Business-class is for the very best.

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