by Aidan Andrew Dun
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.