Coming Home

By Nathan Porceng

 

Another thing romanticized
by media and movies,
no banners,
no kisses,
no parades,
and frankly I’m
thankful for that.

What I’m NOT
thankful for
is this 12 hour
overnight layover
in the barren
Oakland airport.

Air Force pains
to foot the bill
to fly its “brothers”
home,
so we go civilian.
Better planes,
shittier schedules,
gotta go
lowest fare,

so the yeomen
booked us here,
stranded in Oakland.

Airport closed
before arrival.
No one warned us.
Would have picked up
snacks back in Hawaii
if they had.
Unable to afford
hotel money or time,
Ellie and I
hunker down behind
a customer service
counter.

Ellie has a pillow
and an airline blanket
saved from the days
they gave them out.
Beset by fatigue
five months in the making
Ellie fast falls
asleep.

I envy her.
Caught where rest
is impossible,
I recline my head
against my backpack,
still reeking of amine,
and torpedoman flatulence.

It’s 1 AM.
The airport is deserted
save for sleeping Ellie,
two cross-terminal shipmates,
and the cleaning staff
prepping for tomorrow.

A worker,
wizened
and bag-eyed,
approaches.
I expect him
to tell us
we can’t be here,
to fuck on out
of his airport.
Instead he asks
if I’ve seen
his ring.

We spend the next hour
looking together.
His name is Larry
and his wife
is going to kill him.

 


Nathan Porceng is a Washington based poet, songwriter, and submariner. As part of the band Bridge Out, he won first place at the 2014 Northeastern Songwriter Festival in Brookfield, CT. He enjoys the works of The Clash and Adrienne Rich.

Photo credit: Jim Epler via a Creative Commons license.