Ode on a Carpet, by T.S.A. Eliot
Traveling through PDX this holiday season? Snap a photo of the soon-to-depart carpet and post to Instagram or Twitter using #pdxcarpet
and you could see your pic in an upcoming issue of Portland Monthly!

Image: Nomad
This being our history issue, we thought it an apt moment to say our farewell, inspired by T. S. Eliot’s “The Hollow Men.”
We are the rain-drenched,
We are the fugitives and refugees,
Running together
Luggage filled with . . . bacon maple bars? Alas!
Our pounding shoes, when
We hurry together,
Are scattered to A, B, C, D, E
Homesick feet over homespun rug
In our sky portal
Those who have crossed
With direct flights, to death’s other Concourse
Remember it—if at all—not as ugly
Dirty brown, but only
As the hearth rug
The city’s doormat
This is the terminal land
This is the cloud land
Here the airplanes
Ascend, here they land
Turkish not in make but nobility
The twinkle of a fading carpet
At the hour when we are
Trembling with excitement
To board in Zone 3
Leaving behind that rug forever
This is the way the carpet ends
This is the way the carpet ends
This is the way the carpet ends
Not with a cleaning but a replacing.