07.19.09
Our faces smile up at us
from the porch floor
bits of our lives
lying soggy, rearranged, out of place
amid the pigeon shit
What didn't we lose?
Unfair
life is unfair
don't you know I was already
dangling, precarious?
07.21.09
It's hot. Hot and heavy. I'm sweating copiously. There are fruit flies on my mangos, weevils in my flour, cockroaches in my cupboard, and burglars on my mind.
Why does it all pile up at once? Everything working together, building up force to knock me down flat. Deflate me.
Suddenly I'm off-kilter, disorganized, sad, nervous, unable to do the simplest things, my mind in some far away land. Isn't Nepal far enough? I want to go farther.
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