you were supposed to fly home today from boston on united airlines. brushing teeth and the voice on the radio says something about a plane flying into the wt center and switch on the tv and my knees want to buckle i am throwing things and crying in a voice i don't know and i am calling your hotel and listening to ringing, calling your voice mail listening to your voice and it is the worst joke ever.

i call the conference and i forget how to form words i am thinking of what it is like to know the minute before you disappear.

phone ringing phone ringing and ringing and it is never you and i am stone i am not really breathing and i can't find you and i am wondering how many more planes are going to fall out of the sky before i find you and when you call it is the best/worst moment ever, but you, crying about the country and God, who said to me, "well it wasn't his plane after all", "don't think of the what-ifs" can fuck off, can take these moments of panic and hold them in your mouth for awhile, and i know you will want to spit.

and he is taking the train home to me.