Business Travel

Off to visit you, Florida,
Sunshine State:
you’ve always been dark to me.
I see outlaws
in your smile, every time
I land there.

Then onto Georgia.
For me you’re just Atlanta
caught behind an endless ring of highway.
I know there’s more to discover
but those concrete barriers
always feel like barbed wire.

I’ve been again and again to places
that I do not really know,
spent time in enclaves
that looked like other enclaves
and ate food that only differed
in a trace of spice or a clever name.

A lot of suburbs and made-up places
built fresh upon what used to be
prairie or desert, swamp or forest,
full of boxes and chain amenities.
A lot of conference rooms
that looked out over other conference rooms.

Those edge cities
with their landscaped camouflage,
all those bright hotels
and their regionally friendly art;
I feel sometimes that when I step
from the airport into them,

I haven’t gone anywhere at all.
The miles add up in my accounts
and tell me I can go anywhere I want
with enough advance notice.
I end up at home on every vacation,
the only place strange enough to charm me.