Le Vacance Pretentieuse: Baggage Claim

Drained to my very heart by our slow-paced arrival, I wander through tasteless decor to the metal arches Beyond which a future is unfurled. My bag’s innards are spilled like blood in the Bible Before the cold gaze of the armed man who marches; He holds the key to this new world. The mechanistic arch stands and takes quasi-sentience Beside passport control, piercing my finely popped Eardrums with sonic solemnity. I am refused by technology but stagger forward hence Into baggage claim where a suitcase pile is propped Up like a holiday Tetris calamity. My suitcase is soul black and with difficulty is found, In its lucid eagerness to fasten itself a faux family; Airports are filled with pretences. Now we are away again, small trolley safe and sound, On the road from snow, heat is where I plan to be. Our intrepid journey commences...