international man of
mystery
i always want to be the better me
the guy who handles shit and get things done
but here i am in a hotel room in salzburg
flipping out because my bank card didn’t work
it was a minor glitch
the ticket officer told us back in vienna
happens all the time, he said with a smile
but there’s my wife calling america
to try and placate me
because i’m pacing and threatening
to not leave the hotel room
to go back to america come hell or high water
and even though she’s shown me the account on the ipad
at least four times
i never believe what i see
in my mind there’s always some international plot
to corrupt the bank account
to ruin our lives when we’re weak and away
this can also happen when i’m buying tickets
or paying for a meal with a debit card
when i’m standing in line at the grocery
or buying shit online
when i travel to europe and my card won’t swipe
or when i leave for work
and have to lock and relock
the living room windows fifteen times
do you think you’re some kind of
international man of mystery or something? my wife asks
but i don’t say anything
just continue pacing and rubbing my face
as if our whole operation were crashing down
because some ticket machine in vienna
was on the fritz
the walls in this room in salzburg closing in
my stomach growling
my wife’s stomach growling
because we haven’t eaten in almost ten hours
and while she continues to try and reach america by phone
i check outside the hotel window
america’s greatest spy
watching every shrouded face on richard mayr gasse
every car that idles
anyone who walks a tad bit funny
laughs the wrong way
or lingers around the star hotel a little too long.
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