I This is the suitcase. This is the owner. There goes their flight now to Barcelona. Inside the owner inside the airplane forty-four years of solitude pain, forty-four years of fruitless waiting, and ten love-long months internet dating. Inside the suitcase inside the cargo bay two Carmelite nuns kneel in panties and pray. A virgin mermaid with pink sea-rose breasts pats a lean kelpie that restlessly rests. This heart’s hoping big, this heart’s fearing farce. Twenty-three kilos, economy class. II This is the suitcase. This is the owner. Here comes their flight now from Barcelona. Inside the owner in seat 16C two weeks of censored feelings disagree, mocked by the woman who couldn’t be touched by love, by a hand, by anything much. Inside the suitcase in the cargo hold a convent of nuns keep their urges controlled. A tireless kelpie, faithful as sin, stalks them with a gaze and herds them in. A mermaid asleep in a tank of water, sequestered in weeds, hugs her still-born daughter. III This is the suitcase back home intact. This is the suitcase that can’t be unpacked. This is the suitcase world without end. This was open-and-shut. And this is Amen.
This is the Suitcase