Here I am – again.

Procedures – again.
I am used to it. They’ve become a routine and therefore
Stopped bothering me.

Papers to fill out. Information to be looked up.
Unfortunately these things are always
in the farthest corner of my bag.

Sit down. Relax. Take a nap. Read, eat and watch a movie.
Bad quality pictures and unconfortable earphones.

The doors open. Curiosity rises in my head.
<How is it going to be this time?>

Endless hallways. No daylight.
Where are they directing us?

The far end of one of these unpleasend long rooms
with its triste pictures
the line of world citicens await us.

Waiting –
then moving foreward.
I can hear my heart beat
and feel, the man vis-à-vis, can hear it too.

Made it. It’s official. I’m in. Cool.

I grab my bag. Where is that exit?
Move it, move it! Why is the world so slow?
Ah, it doesn’t matter. I’m stuck in the next line, anyway.

Pulse slows down.
I breath in. I know that smell.
New York.