Why So Delirious?

Yekaterinburg, Russia – September, 1996

Why So Delirious?

Long project

From June to September

Vienna to Moscow

Moscow to Siberia

Siberia to Moscow

Moscow to Nizhny Novgorod

Nizhny Novgorod to Boston

Boston for a week then back

to Moscow, back to Nizhny

back to Moscow then to

the administrative center

of the Urals, Yekaterinburg

I’m tired, it’s getting cold

and the heat isn’t on yet

October 1997, Moscow, Russia

October 1997, Moscow, Russia

Two days before this photo was taken, I was on vacation in Atlanta, Georgia where it was a nice 70 degrees . I returned to Moscow —where I lived and worked. On the flight back, as the plane made its final approach, l looked at all the snow on the ground covering the entire city. That is when I remembered, I left my overcoat in the trunk of the rental car at Hartsfield-Jackson airport in Atlanta.



I’m eating a late lunch at an airport,
at a restaurant named after a notable,
noted, well known chef
who deserves redundant adjectives
for the food is just that good.

Maybe it’s not the healthiest choice,
turkey meatloaf wrapped
in a thin slice of bacon,
mashed potatoes smothered
in a layer of light brown, turkey flavored gravy.

The meat loaf looked like it was gently placed
by gentle hands on top of the potatoes
while thin cut, brown coat onion rings
were sprinkled over the layered stack,
topped with one last spoon of gravy,
just a dripping from top to bottom.

I have prime seating, facing main concourses,
two in the afternoon, prime space,
prime time, prime people watching,
truly, it does take all kinds to make a world.
I peer at the large windows,
gazing outside, I see several planes
parked at several gates and I think:

it’s gonna be a long ride

Ribs for the Road (revised)


can i make you laugh today
can i tell you a story
that will make you smile
or will the dryness
or will the crude edge
only make you frown

let me try

i’m stuck in an airport
delayed again, nonetheless
it’s dinner time and i’m hangry

there only two large restaurants
in the airport, one i hate
therefore, my choice
has been simplified

i order the ribs slathered
in a sauce named after
a famous kentucky sour mash

i wait and watch people
move along the concourse
finally, my food arrives

the ribs are…
…sorry i forgot to take a picture…
…pterodactyl sized…

people in the restaurant are staring
jaws dropped, mouths agape
wondering what on earth
is he going to do with that

i know i’m wondering

doesn’t matter, i’m famished
and i need to eat now
delayed flight statuses change
in a new york minute

i unfold my napkin
to retrieve my knife
lo and behold
it is a butter knife


i look for the server
however, she along with
her cohorts are a scurrying
because the place is packed

many flights were delayed today
and many folk don’t have
many places to go
so they stop here for the show

watching me with my butter knife,
fork, big paper towel napkin in hand
tearing through my ribs
for the road

Weary Travel Nights – (repeat post)


i’m at an after hours place

to my left is a man who loudly orders
a redneck long island iced tea

he’s gotten my attention

i move four seats away
to make room for his posse
for fear of what type of prey

these hunters may be hunting tonight

after i move i hear the man to my far right
railing on the federal government

i can’t win

i call the bartender
bartender please
refill my glass
and bring my check

i chug my malbec,
drop a ten and a twenty
next to the empty glass
pick up my briefcase

and walk across the street
to my hotel

weary travel nights