Archive for August, 2016

Koh Phi Phi

August 31, 2016

Stepping off the boat

the waves of sales

men crash over us

following the scent

of our currency.

The current flows

 

Into the land of lads and ladettes –

To large linoleum dance floors,

And listless signs proclaiming

“You know what goes well with beer?

 

Sex.”

And everyone has it dripping in the sweat

That circulates through the square;

The throbbing beat of nineties classics

And the traffic of hungover teens

 

Living the Thailand dream.

And I feel like Philip Larkin

Watching them

on the long slide.

To happiness. Endlessly.

 

He accepts his own impending mortality, however.

 

I’m 28.

And this is torture.

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Nighttime Flight over Bangkok

August 12, 2016

On a large rickety table
He places a black cloth –
It hangs over the table like the night over the city.

From inside his long dark jacket
Glittering objects appear
And he arranges them in sprawling lines
And empty squares and unbroken rows
In the darkness.

Glittering gridlocks;
Shimmering miniature streetlamps;
Christmassy quadrants;
The small square glass window through which a family eats and argues and loves and screams.

Everything is for sale.

Everything is for sale.

Look at the shining lights, my friend,
And what lies in the dark can remain in the dark.

As if it didn’t exist at all.