Roamed for hours,

                      Thoughtless

         Searching for whatever there was to be found

      Sleep was replaced by sex and airplanes.

                 My eyes can’t close

                    And my mind can’t open.

     We ate all of the empty bread

                And drank the coffee

      And talked of bodies and convention

                      And of dissection of emotion

             And destruction of reality.

       Whatever it is.

  We met a strange New Zealandish Buddha –

               Boy in the kitchen

     Who spoke of hating school and traveling –

  And asked how to flavor his beans.

                     I told him spices

       And he said that he didn’t like taking peoples’ things.

                   We left to ignore the poor

          And buy cheese pastries and bottellas de agua.

 

March 2004