Linda Simone
Unfinished crossword on flight to
San Francisco

I sit where you sat,
pick up where you left off,
filling the section edged
by one across, four down.
Your answers annoy. Inane
only fits in length, not meaning. The rest—
your challenge to me.
I tap out with fingers words
stuck to tongue's tip. Hours pass.
Later I'll be sorry I didn't sleep. But I can't stop—
Why did you? Surely you knew
Do (blank) others...? (four letters, starts with "u")
Did your meal arrive? Did you yank
seat belt tight against chop
of currents? Was your head
swollen from used-up air?
I've solved it all—
except that damn inane part you started. 
Somehow your pencil strokes block me, 
even erased. No answer key, 
I stuff magazine tight
into seat pocket at my knee—
daring the next flyer.