MaryJane with blue hair

…a spare hour at the terminal with some old words—
written in a time when I thought myself useful.
At first I didn’t notice her,
but her voice seemed gentle enough
to pull my nose from the strategic
grid of ones and zeros, I mean,
she looked to me like the curves of a Q.

“Excuse me,” she began,
breaking my concentration,
“Can I use your mobile?”
I reached into my pocket and handed it over;
She smelled strongly, like old European blood,
     with which she was probably unconcerned,
     and had the liquid-blue eyes of a hippie
who probably didn’t believe in showers.
She dialed and began talking rapidly
while I examined her:
     No purse, suitcase, backpack, knapsack—
     just a clear plastic bag with a sticky label, no seal,
filled with grey and yellow papers, Marlboros, and a belt.
I looked down at her waist—her pants seemed to fit fine.

Jane was her name, and she had blue hair.
Well—
just the front was blue.
She was a bit thin and looked perpetually
     on the verge of tears;
     I felt like I should have been attracted to her
     but I really wasn’t.
“I been in jail two-and-a-half days,” she smiled at me.
     I didn’t respond.
“Want to know why? They found my roach.”
     “Two-and-one-half days…?” I took back my phone.
“Yeah!  They were yellin’ felony possession.  Fuckin’ Nazis!”
     
I noticed the bags under her eyes
     and the blue sloshed around in her iris.
Briefly, I considered taking her
across from where we sat;
It was the closest thing to the mile-high club.
But I had been listening for quite some time;
she was excited now, talking about her
boyfriend and hometown, how she missed The Pixies.
I had stopped listening after the prison transfer.

Some woman’s voice announced Flight 266.
The conversation finally stopped
as I looked over to the lady speaking and she stared up at the speakers.
She told me she’d save a seat for me,
but I was tired of it—squeezed against the glass while she stared out.
     Jane had nothing for me, and I had nothing for anybody.
So instead, I sat between a fat man and a rather large high-schooler.
I took a deep breath and looked around at the other passengers—
Jane was nowhere.  I kept my head down,
let out a warm exhale, and slipped out my bookmark.