Current mood:

tired

Airport Poem - Revision 2
Soldiers Through Airport Security

Young men from Dallas are
being deployed from Gate B18.
Bodies flow along making a
round rhythm, bodies almost without
exception manufactured handsome, large,
and glowing. I see each individually
set their burden down, square their shoulders,
and see God,

.............his hands mindlessly
presenting a practiced performance, (6)
a leather tongue flips open, teeth are pulled aside,
his belt finally snaking off in one long snap.
He stomps one foot, then
drops the other boot.

Next time it's played a little
differently, showing a sliver of
hip, a firm glossy oblique--
And all with conscious oblivion.

Their belt-ripping builds in
many wavelengths overlapping
at unexpected amplitudes, an
unpredictable but unified chant.

It arouses an assembly-line
of sighs and blushes. The wives
look spent when it's finally
done, and the last one laces his boots.

Problems with it still:
(6) What I mean is they make it look easy. Still anyone is going to read masturbation. If you're ever a girl and try to get some guy's belt off, it's AWFULLY hard! ;) Plus, the alliterative phrase is hard to delete.
(9) I want to get across an eeriness that there are so many people one after the other doing the same thing and looking alike, but the objects of my attention are the individuals. I don't think I'm doing that.