Cattle Call
Everyone raves about the Austin Bergstrom airport
as if arriving on a religious pilgrimage,
yet I loiter as we hold like livestock
for ear tags and a deworming, then
shuttle through a low-dose radiation treatment,
ultimately cut loose to sully the floor
with our weathered belts and sunglasses.
Some race to the trough for tacos and coffee slop,
yet all lope into disinterested pens
as herders corral us through gates and onto containers,
hauled away on the promise of greener pastures.
Author’s note: Sometimes, modern air travel is chaotic and can feel like the experience is stripped bare as we pass through an indifferent system that promises freedom. I think we can all relate to elements of this poem that hopefully capture the demonization of our journeys beneath the glamor of the travel culture.
“If you think adventure is dangerous, try routine; it is lethal.”
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