Day 23

 Day 23


Pompeiish


I.


You don't wear a hat.

Wear a hat

Your penfriend doesn't 

finish school

Till 7

But takes a long siesta


Ii.


I plan 

My journey.  Someone told

Me dust.  I recall

The terrible sun on white walls

In any town


Iii.


Anyone else


Watched the landscape on an

Endless horizontal -


Me and travelsickness 

Look ahead


Iv.


At the house

Of Aulia Lucretia,still,

Her dark eyes watching


V.


The place

On the hand drawn list with pictures,


Next to the pyramids

To Angkor Wat to Macchu Pichu


Nearer


Vi.


Thinking about

The silkyness of ash,

Difficult to clean


Vii.


I was wondering about

History and where Geography

Ends. Geology laughs 


VIII.


The happiness of sun in the corner,

The tailless lizard civilization


IX.


Item no 9

On the itinerary

Is always...


X.


All dogs lie

Like sleeping dogs at midday.


Though they are sometimes

Awake and they

May bite.


Xi


The Americans debate

Whether it would be better

To dive straight into

The volcano


Or to wait.


XII.


In the house of Gaius B.

It was business as usual.


Honeying the larks


Xiii.


Wish you were here

And wish I was. Two tourists

Take a photo

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Day 27 ..2

 The kadapul flower of happiness Is the dearest flower in the world Flowering only yearly  and then only, unobserved At midnight in a great desert But how worthwhile, How wonderful, this effort To see the moon (if there to be seen ) Then wither, silver, fade And cannot be bought
Read more

NaPowrimo Day 6

  A broken clock speaks   You assume that I want to measure time, or treasure time. I was just crafted that way; faced and handed in a poor approximation of the human- when I stopped, it was a calm. These cogs no longer nipping with young teeth, the tiny ruby captive in the workings.   Listen to me, I am half the making of a bomb, the most important part, the rationale of time, the tick tick ticking. I am happy quiet, like this, am happy stilled in the hanging air of endless afternoons, I dream in dust.   I find I do not care for the consolation of being right once, twice- the old bores’ answer. There’s no revelation; just a flag waved in the circumnavigation of nothing. And if you look at my face, morning or evening, I give nothing away.  
Read more

Day 29

 The wrong order Or menu choices regretted It was grey meat mince wrapped in cabbage skin, jade green and uberboiled. It was like softpockets of organs stuffed back in the body ; there was a cream sauce peppergherkined strangely glow yellow grout white there was a bed of blood tomato jammy smeared There was a crown of bones with a little gristle blowtorched on which necessitated tilting the head owlike to bite into and one strip of tough flesh that needed the eater to rip hard with their canines and simultaneously rend in two with bare hands There was a shiny soup of shoe polish brown and in the ichor a white thing There was a pie as hot as mouthful of hell.  There was the dulleye and dark silver of the unknown two day fish Not at all the same, but as painful in the moment and the memory- I ordered grapefruit sorbet when I might have had a lovely mountain of profiteroles
Read more