In the title poem of Tips for Domestic Travel, Hayden Saunier tells us:
If you walk up, weeping, to an airline counter
one hour before flight and three days after
elevated warnings of terrorist attacks,
you should expect the body search
of a lifetime, even if you aren’t wearing
an underwire bra…
That is where we begin. Saunier takes us home where we use a bandsaw to do battle with a Smithfield ham, prepare for a road trip to an unknown sea town where a dearly beloved will nurse a tumor, and where death patiently reads The New York Times. Tips for Domestic Travel is an elegy, but it’s also a guide for navigating the domestic lands of the childhood home, the body, and the objects that remain.