(We think we are Climbing )

We mobile minority,
Power walking through corridors of corporate America in scuffed business shoes.
(The business woman beside me plays her part, and I do the same, laptops in tow.)
We marionettes – wired on Starbucks, or wireless on the web,
on the road or on the way up to,
and well provisioned for,
the next stage.
With our connections to the world hung from our hips or attached to our heads – Uplinked to the puppeteer.
We maintain a "win-win" attitude and never question if, in fact, we are climbing.
(If you think you are on a treadmill you probably don't have the right attitude for a climber)
So the business woman and I dash for the gate, wheels rolling under our roll-along luggage,
every accoutrement of our attire rolled within.
Stage cleared and props reset – Wheels up at 8: am!
The players will be no more sarcastic than savvy as per regulation.
Weary under the cabin pressure,
but never tired
Were climbing to a cruising altitude,
Or to a penthouse suite,
Or to those things we want at home Or from the "sky mall"
but can't reach because they don't fit in our carryon bag?
Offline while in the air,
we await an instant message.
Touchdown,
another stage cleared,
and then wait.
(Delayed, she sighs – another gate.
"It's OK" the business woman tells the cellular phone, "I'm platinum – the Omni in New York will put
someone out to
make room if I show up late")
I wonder to myself if there is someone at her home who would do the same.
We taxi – in or out,
or to the front lobby.
The treadmill turns.
To a final stage,
or curtain call,
And after all – 
we just start again.