for those like me

it is a grotto 
in duty free 
Christmas songs 
and festive decorations 
just cover extortionate 

still shut shop fronts
selling all of the holiday paraphernalia  
for those i like to think 
like me 

with memories like a sieve 

this is a poem from a new book of travel poetry I have been working on. I wrote this in 2019? Back when we could travel freely. I cut this poem out because I don’t like it. Not sure where the Christmas part has come from either because I usually travel in the late Summer. Too early for that Season. But I suppose in Duty Free it does feel like time becomes irrelevant. Because Duty Free is basically that bit in-between arriving and leaving. That could have been what I was trying to say in this poem.

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