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Wednesday, May 17, 2017

the dripping faucet and uncut lawn—this is life?

On the Road:

Those dutiful dogtrots down airport corridors
while gnawing at a Dunkin' Donuts cruller,
those hotel rooms where the TV remote
waits by the bed like a suicide pistol,
those hours in the air amid white shirts
whose wearers sleep-read through thick staid thrillers,
those breakfast buffets in prairie Marriotts—
such venues of transit grow dearer than home.

John Updike.


May 17, 2017 | Permalink


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