after Hilbert
The zipper on my laptop bag went bust
at John Wayne Airport in the morning rush.
I was a nightmare at security—
the Baba Cool in stocking feet and dust,
performing a Caesarian. That crush
would see me pull the flat facsimile
of consciousness from broken sack to trough
and slide it on the roller bars. I fumbled
with my belt and dropped it in the tray.
Getting it all together was enough
to deal with on the other side. I stumbled
to the plane and later made my way
through Newark with a lump of Naugahyde
and tangled cable slouching at my side.
About the author
Rick Mullin has travelled throughout Europe and the US as a business journalist covering the pharmaceutical and chemical industries for the American Chemical Society’s…
Read the full bioIssue 18 · June 2013
Table of contents
- From the editors
- Poetry
- Postcard Prose
- Travel Notes
More from The Journal
- Postcard Prose
By Kelly Hill
Trying to wrap my mind around living on a tropical island for thirteen years and never once seeing the ocean, I stumbled through my Indonesian vocabulary to say, It’s good. It’s big.
- Travel Notes
By Sandra Larson
A dinosaur dangles over my grandson at the Field Museum near a pink thumb that pops into the prom picture of my granddaughter dressed in strapless red leaving her house in Medina …
- Travel Notes
By Megan Hallinan
The bill in question is actually a 2,000 West African franc note, and it’s the equivalent of about four U.S. dollars. A helpful sum, really, but as I clutch the weathered crinkle in my sweaty palm, its value feels as dirty as the grime that is undoubtedly being transferred to my fingers.
- Poetry
to Egg and Berry brewery, to the pack / of Czechy words I made but didn’t work / in this pink town. I’d readily go back / to your best spots, the unfired gun, that perk //
- Poetry
By Jason Warren
And if the neap tides of my beauty / sadden him, I cannot help it: / I hang high, the waxy night light …
- Poetry
By Anastasia Vassos
Three thousand ancestors ask how I straddle / the sea, a foot on either shore. //
Read more Poetry or Postcard Prose