Airport Airport

Airport, airport, airport.

They've got everything I need at the airport.

Coffee bar, sushi bar, cocktail bar, rent a car.

A place where time means everything and time means nothing in it's white flourescent arctic summer twenty four houredness.

Arrivals and departures, births and deaths, airport tears are practise for real life.

I feel secure at the airport. A reassuring adult voice tells me to guard the threat that is my luggage.

There is an information desk at the airport, for when I feel perplexed. At San Francisco International I ask the sage behind the desk,"do I lose faith in myself when I lose faith in love and art, or is it the other way 'round?" He hands me a map for the Bay Area Rail Transit system. I accept it gratefully. In these existential matters one guide is as good as any other.

I catch the train, which I notice can be driven from either end, and alight at the pallendromic Civic station. My question has been answered.

Airport, airport.

Don't forget, getting there is half the fun. When I land in Sydney, in fourteen hours, I'll have had half the fun I'm going to have. 

Airport, airport, airport. 

They have everything I need at the airport.

Coffee bar, sushi bar, cocktail bar, rent a car.

Some day everywhere will be like the airport.

In the future the whole world will be like an airport.






Parkstreet

Ko-fi

All Watched Over By Machines Of Loving Grace, Richard Brautigan

Saxophone, A Definition #1

Saxophone, a complex, ornate brass sword used for the sole purpose of slaying demons.

Parkstreet

Ko-Fi

Worlds Within Oysters

From a photograph by Kris Reichl.

Energy in, energy out.

Love in, love out.

The universe is an infinite oyster colony, a bivalve reality, no conscious thought, just energy in, energy out, love in, love out.

Pearl planets are rare.

We share the sea but live in our own shells, pretending to think. We are nothing but energy in, energy out, love in, love out. Will I create a pearl before I am opened and eaten?

Am I a man dreaming I'm an oyster, or am I an oyster dreaming I'm a man?

Energy in, energy out. 

Love in, love out.



Parkstreet

Ko-Fi

Tramps Like Us

Go, traveller.

Here's to all the dharma bums, the makers of music, the dreamers of dreams, those who live on love and air, the joyously lost, the gloriously adrift, the seekers, the circus joiners, the exiled, the wanderers, the stumblers, the free, a green tea toast to you all.

May you all find a place to heal your loneliness, a person to call home, a vocation that finds you. 

May you never lose faith in redemption through travel, may your restlessness lead to peace.

Go, traveller.






Parkstreet

Ko-Fi

Riddichio Lettuce

Rhythmically frightening,
Punch drunk lightning,
Subtlety, subtly, subtlety.

The tenor man's shoulders,
A blue, blues soldier,
Broadly broadly broadly.

Senses notated,
An intricate salad.
Riddichio lettuce.





Parkstreet

Pointy Bits

Close your umbrella,
It's just a sunshower.
Let the blessed rain fall on your blessed head.

The umbrella
Lowers your horizon,
You can't see the rainbow.

I can't see your eyes.

And when you wave those pointy bits at the edges near my face it freaks me out.




Parkstreet