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Luggage
They wouldn’t let me
take it on the plane. They’d
lowered the weight limit
for carry-ons & I was pissed
that on arrival I would have to
wait at the steel carousel,
drag my battered Jansport from
the Samsonites & Swiss Armies.
A handsome man approached me,
offered moisturizer, which I took,
knowing every free gift has
a price. What are you using, he
asked me, for your bags?, meaning
the ones under my eyes.
Celebrity
We sighted
Doug Stamper,
Frank Underwood’s
dogged, demonic
House of Cards henchman
in the Angelika lobby.
You took a photo:
awkward, blurred,
how tiny he was
in our world with
his popcorn after
Trump won.
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[…] we re-post a favourite story or poem from the CommuterLit archives. Today we present two poems: “Luggage” and “Celebrity”. Click on the link to […]