The Unwaiting [poem]

There is only one way in.
Here's how it works.
You must accompany a loved one - 
wife, father, lover, son - 
who will be taken from you
slept
and cut.
You have arrived.

You may sit
or stand
or both
or neither.

You may walk
or sit
here
or there
or neither
or both.

It's like Doc Daneeka said to Yossarian:
when you're in an airplane
there's nowhere else in the world you can go
except another part of the airplane.

You are not waiting for a wave
     or a Guinness
You are not waiting for a bus
     or a visitor
You are not waiting.

This is not waiting.

This is zombie time.
This is phantom limb.
This is no-thing and no-where.
This is un-time in an un-plane.

For them
no times passes at all
For you
the clock ticks
while absolutely nothing happens.