Travel

Shit, showered, and shaved by 8;

photo by hungrybison

I reach Havana airport by 10.

A coffee, two aspirin, and a body search later,
I await for the exodus.

1pm flight delayed,

3 pm,

4pm,
5:30,
take off now at 6,
exactly one hour after my connecting flight from Miami to Vancouver is scheduled to depart.

“Come back tomorrow, you can’t book onto another flight tonight.”

I unloaded only one,
one barrel,
on the woman,
and all of a sudden
I had a seat to The States,
on another plane.

Loaded onto a bus like a fleeing refugee,
I’m transported across busted tarmac to a small rundown building,
to wait in an unventilated room with a broken air conditioner hanging lifeless in a window.

An hour passes,
I’m told to go outside,
into the damp Cuban heat,
to wait in line,
to get onto another bus,
to go back to the building where I originally came from,
so I could stand in another fucking line,
to sit in another waiting room,
to board a plane that is now an hour late.

Finally I’m on board a plane,
vintage 1954,
and looking every year its age,
Got to make my way across The Gulf of Mexico in this thing.

After landing in Florida,
I rush off the plane to avoid the usual long lines that precede yet another inquisition.
I am told to go to an area where they will be checking for plant life,
drugs,
and other shit you’re not supposed bring into America.
I guess this is where they will locate the Cuban cigars I am trying to smuggle.

Cleared?,
No shit?,
Maybe God is looking after me.

After booking another flight to Vancouver,
I fall into a taxi to take me to a hotel.
Salsa music,
the stench of marijuana,
and the smell of Old Spice fill the car.

The dimly lit dashboard accentuates a yellow haze,
which will not dissipate despite the rush of air from my open window.

Grime fills my pores,
my teeth feel gritty,
I’m in desperate need of a shower and sleep.
No vacancy,
next hotel same thing,
repeat four more times.
Finally, a bed at the Holiday Inn.

Fresh sheets in the “land of the free”
for the truly fucked.

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Filed under creative writing, micro stories, original photography, outlaw poetry, Short stories and essays

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