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   v e r y    w e l l    t r a v e l l e d

--- J O E   D U N T H O R N E


Her passport bulges
like an overpacked suitcase.
At security, she whips off her bleepables:
belt, brooch, brogues.

She's asleep before take-off and later, in turbulence, she only wakes up to look incredibly bored. With a nose like concorde she sniffs her bloody Mary and asks for a jerk more tabasco.

She clops past the reclaim rodeo with everything she could need in her hand luggage. She'll be at her hotel - wholly hydrated, pores as clear as runway lights, chock-full with clot-less blood - before a single suitcase gets spat into their chubby, map-happy hands.

She leaves culture shock to the guide book club, those who take pleasure in winding on their watches. By this time, she'll have made local friends in a local bar, ordering ales by their nicknames, not flinching at the double-figured a.b.r. Even her eyebrows do not betray interest; they are trim, clipped and landed.

© crossconnect, inc 1995-2006 |
published in association with the |
university of pennsylvania's kelly writers house |