Big Ant (LAX to JFK)

I smoke a cigarette,
hiding excitement
at just purchasing 
a plane ticket home. 

I curve my thumb
around a glass,
and toast the west coast,
for all its worth.

If I don't die beforehand, 
my feet and soul
will find Bleecker Street once again,
where it all began. 

Someone once told me
we are all ants
on this marble,
I agree with her now.