The Modern Assassin (A Tribute to Red Eye)

The manager sits in his coach section seat
armed with his cellphone for an evening of unwanted calls
waiting for a lady he doesn’t want to meet
on a flight he doesn’t want to take
that’s been delayed for reasons he can’t control
by a storm that came at the worst possible moment
wasting time he didn’t have

so he’s calling an employer he doesn’t approve of
to work out problems he wishes hadn’t come up
for a job he wishes was already over
to kill a man he doesn’t even know
for people he doesn’t even like
all at some ungodly hour on a red eye flight
hoping for retirement on an island far far away
away from the calls, and the lady,
and the boss, and the plane, and the storm,
and the endless hassles they bring
somewhere with white sand and clear water
where he can wash the blood off of his hands
and relax


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