Feeling Home In Public Places (A poem I wrote on airport yesterday)

[Pensive]

So I was on airport without a laptop and with a serious lack of sleep. This is what I came up with. Not sure even if it qualifies as a poem. More like random thoughts. I had to run and I couldn't even finish it and now I feel incapable of giving it an end. The writing mood/airport feeling is past.

It feels like a 3-d movie
you are a part and still not
you are there but also somewhere else
Islamabad or Istanbul or Riga?
But arent they all quite similar
Turkish men are handsome
So be it - you are in Istanbul...or not
You are in Riga
There are no men in Riga
Only women. Pretty women
And children
who smile at you
or laugh at you as they pass by
its hard to tell
but lets not mention children you are no pervert
somebody asks where you are from
he looks racist
he wants to make you feel bad about being different
or criminal, he might steal something
if you let him get too close
you dont reply
they sell pretty things in here
pretty expensive things
you dont have to have them
they must charge you for looking at them
you, freerider!
People are stupid
they wait long hours
but you have to be stupid for people to like you
and you also have to wait
it was a long journey
only you are still not home
or you are.
You feel quite home at public places
There is a big fat sexurity guy
doing as much as you - doing nothing
and getting paid for it
for being big scary and intimidating
if women are paid for being pretty they are whores