The air is crisp But what’s striking is the silence The platform, mostly faded, darkened concrete, slowly decaying and deserted. It calls for bustle, yet is met by none. A flock of whirling visitors alight briefly atop the rain cover and dance together through the air. Darting, flitting guests who make this concrete, metal latticework …
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Hack saw
Cough Hack Cough Cough, cough Cough I’m somehow on a sandy golf course. Hit a couple nice shots, but the next hole is a short pitch, seemingly not even 10 meters. Some sort of Funhouse golf course (Maxi Golf?), sandy gravel all around and a sheer cliff behind me. I peer over and feel a …
Three Men
What are we entitled to? There’s more than three people here tonight. But these ones stand out. The Butcher is contemplative, his body coated in white bubbles, the plastic stool and wash basin to him part of the most sacred ritual. He’s done this before. The Baker kneads his towel, methodically, ridding it of the …
Tadaima
Hustle up, let’s make the light! We scurry across, between shade and patches of sun. It’s just Rhino and I, as Mama and Elephant skirted ahead to avoid the wait. Transitions can be challenging For me For us. Still. An ongoing frustruation of not leaving enough time, or deliberating on the balance of what items …
Orange Tree
I first noticed the group of monks because of their robes They stand out. And today, these outstanding gentlemen have some work to do. One of them is in charge of the saw And today is a climbing day. Two of them balance precariously on top of the fence surrounding their temple. They perch to …
Sweeps
The birds are the most active I think, on first impression. That is, until I wander by the monastery and see it’s time for the morning sweeps. The two young men seem to be attempting to outdo one another. Both arrayed in their orange robes, one shoulder with cover and the other without. Singular in …
Haze
Oranges come to mind When you live in Southeast Asia, AQI is just a thing And the air is thick today. We take for granted, that, yes, it might be a day for a mask, and we might not be able to see across the river, or across the lake. We manage expectations, live inside …
Checkpoint Fore
We round yet another bend So the route goes: right, left, left, right, right <straightaway>, left, wiggle-waggle, right, left, right, left, woggle-wiggle, left, right, left, riiiiiiigggghhhht, left, right Sometimes as writers, we’re able to recreate our daily commute in our minds No description, none needed. It’s there, I promise. Such is the nature of routine. …
Checkpoint 3
I look for her every time we come around the bend. She is as constant as a clock, all parts, moving in rhythm, in the same direction. Her conical nón lá shading her from the nonexistent sun, beige coveralls signaling her role, bamboo woven straw broom in hand. But it is her silver, dented, 20-gallon …
You know what they say
I didn’t expect this I didn’t expect to have so many conversations with strangers on the three minute walk back home But every other person flashed a grin And for some reason felt a connection I’m pretty sure it wasn’t us, but maybe that’s part of the equation I am by nature affable I like …
Get Up Eight 