The Lost Luggage Office
I love it here, to wander among the aisles,
by size and date of arrival.
I can cover miles in a day, and months in any pile.
These have never been opened under my auspices.
I like to imagine their content;
their reasons, and their purposes.
This one, in black, small and carry on.
I imagine it’s a contract killers’-
housing his gun, a silencer. Holding its tongue.
I picture him having a change of heart,
a mid-air career re-appraisal, switching tack
and turning back, heading for the start.
Or this one, it’s red, slightly larger from 1987;
the very embodiment of a ‘valise’.
It holds in my minds eye just bare essentials.
Lingerie and scents; just enough detail
to wonder if the affair is still going,
or had the longevity of a chem trail?
It’s mainly the smaller stuff that ends up here,
the larger belonging to families
with more to lose. With the threat of tears
they hunt better, further, longer.
Straight down the line,
the lure of lost toys is stronger.
We all place our locks on things, keep our keys safe.
People have said to me, in the past
you’d do well out of here, without the baggage.
By day Mat is a researcher for ITV. He has been published in And Other Poems, Obsessed With Pipework, Ink, Sweat & Tears, and was longlisted for Primers 2 via Poetry School and Nine Arches Press. He is yea high.
Blog: https://matriches76.wordpress.com Twitter: @matriches
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