Love Letter to Tom Robbins

I usually don't make public my letters, but being as this is for a public figure who will probably never receive or read it, why the hell not?  Here is my love letter to contemporary fiction writer Tom Robbins.  Enjoy.

My Dearest Thomas Robbins,

I have recently finished Jitterbug Perfume, and just as the last three works of yours I have read, a longing throbbed somewhere behind my eyes, inside this rack of ribs, under my sizzling loins, in every iron nail, sea-swept net, and palm-burning rope of this meager yet majestic vehicle riding your rousing tides.  Nearer comes the end, and the frail shell longs with wail and whimper that this one, maybe this one, will continue beyond that indiscriminate, grammatical reaper: the period.  Perhaps this one, whose substance swallows bile-black death and spits its scythe from the limestone cliffs, perhaps, this one tale will persist when my bony fingers pull the metaphorical cover closed on the kindle….

I will not ask how you do it.  I have read of your methodology, the patient lumbering through lexicons, half-crazed and three quarters stone-sober, until you find the feeling entire, and carefully position the period at the foot of its living line like a handcrafted granite gravestone.  Headstone, footstone, whatever it is that separates those pearly strings, those silk and quartz-cut sentences, is as extraneous and irrelevant as syntax during sex.  Or was it semantics?  Grammatical practicality, my stranger of a soul mate.  It’s the sensation that has weight, the subjects that matter. 

And the fact of that matter is this: your intricately sculpted art seduces every cell in my body.  I don’t read your books; I fuck them.  And they fuck back.  It is as if you stretched your hands into my vessel and plucked out the throbbing muscle, unrolled the red like a scroll and stole the poetry written upon it.  Then you gently placed it back in its cavity, retied the veins and blew fresh air in the chambers.  What I mean to say is, you write the unspeakable secrets held in my heart, for you have found the language to do so. 

When I read your exacting, meticulous words, it’s like breathing for the first time the salt-rich oxygen of a vast, undulating ocean.  I let the sparkling spray sprinkle my face and weep at the simple beauty of a fresh, well-wrought story.  I am overcome with a deeply mystifying intimacy for a man I’ll never meet, but with whom I’ve already shared so much.  Some baffling connectivity electrocutes every sense, shocks every value.  Each text changes me, yet brings me closer to myself.  As real and ethereal as any piece of timeless literature, your words weave their way into the infinite. 

And when the reaper finally comes for you… when the Bandaloop breath, and the boof-base beets, and the immortalist jig cease to keep you young, even then, my inventive friend, you shall not die.  For you have left an unassailable imprint, an irreversible mark on the reader, and inspired an unsoiled, mythical love in a time of smog and machinery.  For this you are immortal.  I thank you from every crease and corner of my furtive heart for your words.  And please believe me when I say, I love you like honey and chocolate: dark as pure cacao pressed deep in the bittersweet comb. 

Your Everlasting Admirer,

Briana

First Days at the Gym and Little Thai Spectators

Now that I have my Thai driver’s license, a sweet Honda motorbike and a very necessary helmet, I can finally drive myself to Muay Thai kickboxing training!!  Yay. I have to drive about 15 minutes northeast(?) to get there – I don’t actually know the direction because there are no maps of this place.  It is just in the high school one village over, in Pho Thong.  The training is free and one hundred percent authentic Thai, which is amazing considering that lessons in the states are anywhere from $80-$300 a month and you will never find an actual Thai trainer, at least not at the places I’ve been to.

Two days ago was my first day.  The gym is technically inside, but there are a few huge garage-like doors that really open it up.  It is non air-conditioned… and dirty.  I mean, everywhere in Thailand is dirty, so I guess I’ll get used to it.  Damn Americans with their shiny brand new brand name equipment all sleek and functional, antibacterial spray bottles, clean towels, and what have you.  Whatever.  I don’t need that stuff.  Although I must admit I was spoiled rotten with some of the best gyms in the States when I was there (my high school, Penn State, some of the gyms in my hometown).  Never take cleanliness and functionality for granted people. 

Anywho, like I was saying, Tuesday was my first day.  I had met the trainer, Tawan, a few weeks back.  He is so cute.  I know that’s probably not the most correct thing to say about a man who could kill me in under a millisecond with skill and precision, but it’s true.  He is tiny, speaks no English at all, and every time I do something right he gives me a big thumbs up! Haha.  It was just he and I in this dirty, slippery gym.  Nobody else.  He was having me try out some basic exercises; I think he was trying to get a feel for my skill level, and I left sweating, but not necessarily because I had a hard core workout.  You sweat everywhere here.  You start sweating the minute you get out of the shower and dry off.  I have never used so much baby powder in my life. 

Yesterday was my second day training, and it was entirely opposite of everything I had anticipated of the previous session.  A few other Thai girls were there to train too, their names are Mai and Dewan (sp?), and another young Thai male trainer named Bum.  I love the nicknames here.  And it gets even better, you gotta love this – everyone and their mom came into the gym to see the white girl train Muay Thai!  I had an audience the entire time I was training, which I must say definitely made me kick my game up a notch and work my ass off.  All those little eyes. 

As I was punching the bag I was surrounded by about 20 seven to ten year old little Thai boys.  I mean they were literally standing in a circle around me just watching me punch and kick.  It was so funny.  And when I was working with the trainers in the ring, they just lined up around the ring and stared, until they started their own little muay thai match in the other empty ring and Tawan had to yell at them to get the hell out! Haha.  It was such a hilarious experience, and this time I left covered in sweat, with sore legs, new battle bruises, and a swollen ankle from kicking the pad with the wrong part of my foot.  Good thing I have medical insurance, because this is brutal business.  I think I’m gonna like it.  Technique Technique Technique.

And of course, I’m in love with my motorbike.  I was so happy on the sunny ride back home I tried to, without a radio of course, sing songs out loud (which is what I do when I’m happy), but my helmet was strapped so tight around my chin I couldn’t quite open my mouth wide enough.  I imagine it could have been a pretty comical sight.  Anywho, after I got home, I showered, and then went back out to grab a bite to eat – fried beef with onion bulbs and mushrooms in a creamy and delicious oyster sauce.  With rice.  Duh.  That is probably one of my favorite dishes, when it’s cooked right.  The meat here is always a bit iffy.  Sometimes you just have a pile of fatty, inedible pieces on the side of your plate.  But hey, at least you have food. 

A lot of people here don’t have anything.  More so in the city than these small villages, but still.  Being here makes me feel so lucky for having these opportunities (traveling, teaching, training, learning, living), and also so grateful for the opportunities provided by the United States of America (cleanliness, administration, order, efficiency, luxury).  Even though I get sad sometimes, when I miss my friends and family back home, I’m so happy to be here and to be meeting new faces that are always smiling, and always staring.  When I do get back home, I’m going to be like, “Wtf?  How come everyone in a fifty foot radius isn’t staring at me?”  And yes, though at times it is a bit annoying, once you get used to it, you kinda like it.  I dunno, maybe it’s just me.  When you learn how to react or not react to it, you can kind of control it and have a lot of fun with it – make strange faces at people, stick your tongue out at them, wink a lot, make funny noises.  Especially with the kids, they treat you like a celebrity.  And yeah, I like that.  

Spicy Papaya Salad and My New Motorbike!

This som dtam is super spicy, I should have asked for just a little spice, but hey, my taste buds had better get used to burning.  It’s made with papaya cut into thin strips and mixed with slices of tomato, fresh green beans, lettuce, peanuts, chilies, and lots of saucy goodness.  It’s juicy and delicious, a little sweet, a lotta spicy, and downright traditional Thai.  This is one dish you will not find anywhere but Thailand, where the papayas are always ripe, and I will miss it terribly whenever it is that I leave.  Date to be determined.

The other night Claire and I walked down to the bigger, temporary market towards the main bridge – the one with the all the lights, and cheap ghetto-looking carnival rides.  I wanted to look at the hat stand to see if there was one ugly enough to buy for my loud class, so that if they are being too loud they would have to wear some ugly thing the entire time.  We decided against the idea, because either they would think it was funny and further disrupt my class or they would just not listen and take it off. 

There was a cop sitting there on his motorcycle, and he was loving us western girls, making me try on Indian Jones hats and stuff, and then I got out my phrasebook and was trying to ask him in Thai if we could take a picture with him, meanwhile Claire is just snapping away, haha!  It was a great start.  Then we walked around a bit, I bought a few teacher skirts, which was the whole reason for going down there anyway.  We bought soda with ice served in a plastic to-go bag and a straw.  I think they do that so they can recycle the bottles and cans or something. 

None of the food, unfortunately, looked very appetizing.  There were a lot of what looked to be quail eggs for sale, tiny little things with a yoke to match.  Weird.  There were also fried bugs and insects.  Eww.  No cotton candy though, or popcorn.  The carousel was complete with superheroes mixed in with ponies and peacocks and giant swans.  They had a big blowup play castle called Fun City, with a freaky evil elephant head at the top of the slide.  We considered the ferris wheel, but it looked a bit too risky, so I settled on shooting little animals with a pellet gun, but I wasn’t good enough to win a big stuffed animal.  Afterward we stopped to have dinner at a new place by the river, and had ourselves a few giant beers while watching the show: two cats humping on an empty stage.  I don’t think I have ever actually witnessed that, and it was quite a sight. 

As previously mentioned, I received my Thai driver’s license a few days ago, and was prepared to begin the prowl for a used motorbike to meander my way through the sois of this small town.  To my astonishment, my boss came up to me yesterday and said that another Thai teacher just bought a used motorbike and was going to let me rent it out from her!  I just can’t believe it, some guy came that very day after school with the bike and we checked it out to make sure it was functional.  She’s a beauty, a blue and white Honda, automatic of course!  And the license plate has two sixes in it, and six is my lucky number.  It’s like it was meant to be.  I am just overwhelmed at how sweet and helpful this staff has been to me, a strange white foreigner.  They really take care of me, and I couldn’t be happier. 

The woman who actually owns the bike stopped me in the market last night to ask if I was satisfied with it.  Well hell yes!  Now all I need is to buy a helmet so I can ride safely.  I hope I can find one that fits my small head,… um excuse me, where’s the child section?  After I get back from a weekend in the city I am going to do some exploring.  AND, this means that I can finally start my Muay Thai training J 

Last night at the market I tried some new foods, but I couldn’t tell you what they were, some things here leave you at a loss for words.  I did, however, buy some mini chicken and tuna empanadas, and some doughnuts for the morning, some fried chicken and fries, and of course, more beers.  The market was bustling, and we ran into a whole bunch of our students walking around with friends and family.  I also saw frog for the first time, this one stall was selling them whole with some kind of veggies and spices on the top of them.  I should have brought my camera.  Thought about trying it, but I was too chicken, coincidentally enough. 

Tonight we are on our way to the city, BKK, and Brooke and I have plans to eat at an American-run Cajun eatery called Bourbon Street.  We looked at the menu online, and holy crap are we excited!  Pretty cheap too, for Bangkok.  Well, I suppose I should go get some work done now, I mean, I am working here, I have a job and I have the work permit to prove it!  Hugs and kisses to anyone reading this – may your days be filled with imagination and adventure!

Obtain a Thai Driver's License: CHECK!

Yep, that's right, yours truly has got her very own, supergreen, bonafide Thai driver's license!  The process wasn't quite as bad as I was thinking, the way some people make it out to be online.  Although I'm sure some places are better or worse than others.  Most of my morning consisted of waiting for my wonderful Thai colleagues to fill out my application and everything for me, which was in Thai.  I came prepared with my passport, work permit, license from my home state, and a doctor's note that I am healthy, as well signed copies of all of them.  The Thai teachers knew a really adorable lady who worked at the "DMV" and whose cheeks I badly wanted to squeeze, and she was so smiley, and she just pushed me right on through.

Next I had to go upstairs where I had to wait in a line until it was my turn to press a fake gas pedal and then hit the brake as soon as I saw the red light.  Piece of cake.  Next was the depth perception test, also cake.  And third the color test, double layer cake.  All the Thais were watching me because of course I was the only white person in there, and I think I heard some chuckles when I was trying to say the colors in Thai.

They gave me a book to study before the written exam, so I sat for a while at least with some reading material.  Turns out, road signs are pretty damn easy to memorize.  The test, however, was loaded mostly with questions nobody had ever given me any information on.  What vehicles are not allowed on public roads?  I have no idea.  You have to be parked 15 meters away from a) fire hydrant b) stoplight c) pedestrian crosswalk or d) railroad tracks?  Ummmm, fire hydrant? NOPE, wrong, it's the railroad tracks.  It was seriously the stupidest test I have ever taken, I guessed on probably half of them, and thank my lucky stars I only missed 5 out of 30!  Had I missed two more I would have failed.

So then I waited some more.  Went outside, in the back of the building where they have this cute little driving track all set up.  Just sat there with one of the teacher's friends who spoke pretty much no English, so it was just us two outside, completely silent for about 20 minutes, watching the butterflies, listening to the birdies.  It was actually quite nice.  Then I strapped on the helmet that was too big for my tiny head, and drove around the course, stopping at every stop sign, turning when they told me to, and I got to slalom through some orange cones.  It was great.  Paid about 5 dollars, got my picture taken and BOOM! License, all shiny and laminated and new.  My boss had me drive the motorbike all the way back to the school.  It was my first time on the main roads, and I nailed it!  Not so scary after all... if anything, this is just gonna be way too much fun.  Now the search is on for the perfect helmet and a not so perfect bike for cheap.  Yay for me :)

Teacher Appreciation Day

In uniform the head student of each class walked onto the marble platform at one end of the outdoor gymnasium carrying their offering.  Each offering was distinct, works of art carried on a golden tray, colorful as a field of flowers.  They bowed to a painting of the King, then walked on their knees in front of the board of directors to give of their appreciation.  They prostrated themselves in front of their respective elders, and walked on knees still to the end of the marble stage, stood and climbed down the stairs to return to their seats.

It went on like this for quite some time, as each student representative took their turn.  Music played in the background, and thin clouds blocked the vicious sun from overrunning us with rays.  The Director stood after the students were again settled and gave a speech, in Thai, which I assumed, given the occasion, was about teachers and the importance of teaching.  When he was done, a man with a microphone in front and below the stage sang some hymns.  We teachers sat off to the right in our own section.  Nine monks then came and took their places behind us on cushions of red and gold, set with trays of juice and water and flowers, and stands to hold their decorated fans of woven straw.

We turned our seats to face them, and I now had the front row.  The board of directors took their seats next to us.  The director went and lit the candles on the shrine next to the monks, then he came over to the head monk and prostrated and bowed to him.  Respect always comes full circle here.  The monks took a ball of string and passed it to one another so each was holding a piece of the same string, the end of which was tied to the shrine.  Then they started chanting as each of us held our hands palms together at the chest.  Their syncopated voices expanded through the microphone and filled the entire area with a sweet, peaceful tenor.  The atmosphere was perfectly clear, the trees in the courtyard behind the procession swayed with the small breeze, and spots of sunshine broke through the leaves, outlining each one in shimmering detail.  I sat with my hands joined, eyes closed, and listened to their song, letting it calm all my thoughts and disquietudes.  It was a vivid and tangible celebration/meditation in one, and an experience I am not likely to soon forget. 

The string was passed back to each monk and rolled back around the ball.  The board of directors and some other teachers came to give offerings to the monks in large wooden containers, bowing to them beforehand.  A younger monk clad all in orange robes then rose, a student followed him with a bowl of water, and the monk took a bunch of sticks in a bundle, dipped them into the bowl, and sprinkled the water slowly over all the teachers’ heads.  It was my first Buddhist blessing, and I hope it won’t be the last. 

Student elections followed the ceremony, so there wasn’t too much class today, but the classes I did have, the students were enormously sweet and cooperative, and I even got some presents: small samples of conditioning shampoo and body wash, and two long-stemmed red roses.  What a wonderful school day.  

Echoes and Essence as the Evening Undresses

Orange through the curtains broke like birdsong from the back, and my eyes cracked open.  Another night of restless sleep and the strangeness of my dream spilled over the sheets in this humid heat.  Feet touched the floor, the same morning routine, face, nose, hair, teeth, eyes, then stepped outside to greet the day.  Three little birds were actually by my doorstep, but they weren't singing sweet songs... I was.

No classes today, no focus to learn from students who yearn to structure some art, to craft the delicate flowers and banana leaves and carved watermelons that charm their way into a teacher's heart.  Tomorrow is Teacher Appreciation Day, and the teenagers swarmed the gym in little circles bent on one meticulous mission: make the best and most beautiful gift.  I let them go, I came to see, they taught me how to wrap and roll banana leaves that would be wired together to look like, get this, another leaf, though as for the kind I couldn't tell.

My roommate and I team taught the next batch of rowdy kids and let them take free reign of the place.  Claire was sitting in the chair pretending to be a student, though I might say her enthusiasm is about the same at home :)  She has a vivaciousness that rivals any teenager's, a contagious energy that revitalizes anything it touches.

I walked from the office to the cafeteria in the heat of the noonday sun remembering those cold days in wintery Colorado when I couldn't wait to be in Thailand so I would never have to be cold again.  I convinced my body not to sweat, or at least, not to smell of sweat.  I dined on fried rice with bits of chicken and egg, spicy red pepper and fish sauce.  Hydrate, hydrate, hydrate - two cups of coffee, some lesson planning, and yes, reading for pleasure.

I am currently in the smoky, sex-scented hazes of pages upon pages of Tom Robbins' Jitterbug Perfume.  That man is a loom weaving the threads that doom me to my bed, entombs his echoes in my head with the sultry descriptions I have read.  That man is like a mirror to my muted soul, singing life from the silver bowl and laughing in its dripping roll.  Like Frost, like Nietzsche, Calvino and Williams, his words shine upon me in some distilled brilliance.  A drop of pure essence, oil from God, some mysterious knowledge I wish I could rob - shove it down into empty pockets and leave the ground on enlightened rockets.  These men know my heart better than I ever will, and I will read them still until I am old and dying in bed, their echoes racing the rings in my head, embracing the ones I leave when I'm dead.

School's out, back home, a short workout to a John Lennon tribute concert DVD, and then dinner with friends at a beautiful restaurant just up the path of the second canal, next to the lily covered river.  Large, carved wooden tables, pink and silver chimes, soft lanterns.  Soups and noodles and spiced up meats, rice, and beer, and water to drink.  Then back home again, for some late night T.V., and then my friends, it's off to bed for me, to wait for those echoes to soften and cease, so dreams may come and put me to sleep.  Let whatever strangeness that creeps in the night be silent, still, maybe even polite, and let me get some rest tonight.

Learning Experience

One of my trainers in the program last month said something that stuck with me: “I don’t have 25 years of teaching experience, I have 25 years of learning experience.”  I love this distinction, for it scratches perfectly the surface of the subject, the fine line between teaching and learning.  They are not separate actions, they cannot be.  They are more like two sides of the same coin, or the push and pull of the same ocean wave. 

For so long I identified myself as a student, and then I went to grad school and faced the other side of that coin, recognizing the teacher I have always been inside, the fact that I was both student and teacher at the same time.  And I always will be.  Though we get older and our conscious walls and patterns become thicker and thicker, humans are animals of learning.  We simply never stop learning, and the world is never exhausted, never known – there is always something new to discover, new students, new teachers, new books, new friends, eventually it all connects, because it is all about connecting. 

My twelve and thirteen year old students make me laugh.  As always, there are some that are better than others, but I sat down with one of the weaker students and slowly tried to ask him who his favorite celebrity was.  It took a number of repetitions and he seemed to be asking everybody else around him in Thai what I wanted from him, but he finally got it.  At least I think he did; he said Justin Bieber, so I’m still not sure.  But this boy, Petch, taught me patience today.  Until today I was not sure of his level, but now I know that he needs more attention, more repetition, slower pronunciation, etc.  And he’s always smiling.  I wish I could work one on one with every student, because I feel the results would just be that much faster and stronger.  I might start offering smaller private lessons on the weekends, but I haven’t quite decided how much of my free time I want to dedicate to teaching, as I do it from 8-4pm each week day already.  And it certainly wouldn’t be for the money.  I would only make about $6-$10 dollars a lesson, depending on how many people were interested. 

Some of my older students asked me to do it, so I’m still considering.  I saw some of them in the cafeteria today when I went to return my bowl of delicious noodle and wonton soup with pork strips and fish balls.  I never tire of feeling like a special celebrity.  They yell, “Teacher, teacher! Hello, what doing, where you go?”  Then they offered me mango slices and some of their French fries.  Adorable.  There are good days and there are bad days, and the good ones make it easier to get through the bad.  Rewards come when we work for them, but here in Thailand, it’s a totally different way of “working” that I have to get used to.  For instance, classes are supposed to be 50 minutes, but students continuously arrive late, and then it takes another ten minutes to get them into the correct classes and sit down and be quiet enough to explain the day’s lesson, so that 50 minutes quickly turns in to about 30 minutes of teaching time.  Sucks for me because I want to make as much progress with them as possible and I don’t want to be mean or impatient about it.  It’s just something I have to get used to, and actually it makes my lesson planning easier because I don’t have to try to jam as much in. 

Learning another language is a slow process anyway.  I should know; I’ve been “studying” Thai on my own since February and I still don’t know more than five sentences or the Thai alphabet.  This shit is hard!

Just Another Saturday

Saturday, June 4, 2011 – AngThong Thailand

Woke up today in a missing mood, missing my family more than I normally would, for really no perfectly good reason.  But who needs a reason to miss their family?  I miss them all the time, I wish they were here with me taking crazy traffic road trips in the Thai countryside, listening to classic rock and arguing our way across some fresh landscapes together.  I took a nice shower and calmed down, chilled out, just relaxed.

My roommate Claire and I grabbed our bags and walked into the sunshine, hooked a right to cut through the short path to town, and hitched a ride from a nice Thai guy on his motorbike.  I’m glad we didn’t have to walk.  That particular path is next to a small river home to a baby crocodile, or alligator, I’m not sure which.  You might think I’m joking, but I am not.  I’ve seen it.  The head was way too large to be a lizard, and the tail was long and quickly disappeared into the thick swampy leaves as our footsteps neared.  It was surreal.  We’ve seen a much bigger one too, in the river a bit further away, striped in light and dark green, it’s scaly, swimming feet seemed more like the bottom half of a mermaid than swamp creature.  Kind of creepy, and yet the local Thais go fish those rivers on a daily basis.

We jumped in the bus headed for Ayutthaya to hit up the giant shopping complex and buy some much needed snacks and groceries.  Our new neighbors Atienne and Peter, South African and British, respectively, also ended up getting in the same van.  They moved in last week in the house right next to ours.  We have already had a lot of fun times with those guys, so of course we were laughing and cracking jokes the whole ride, probably bugging the shit out of the locals.  Oh well, you cant please everyone. 

There are tons of restaurants in this mall, the Tesco/Lotus.  We sat down at a sushi place she said she had been to a while back and we had our fill of cucumber rolls, soft crab rolls, and some giant California roll thing.  So delicious.  We had three excellent plates and two giant sodas for a little over five dollars each.  After that we just wondered around the crazy place.  I bought another teacher skirt, because the first one I bought the zipper broke, and the second I bought ripped straight up the leg when I got into the back of a truck when we were offered yet another ride from a nice stranger (Everyone here knows we are teachers and so most are super nice to us, because teachers are more respected here than other places—hence why we receive so many free rides, which we gladly accept because it is hot as balls in this country). 

I also bought a nice lacey black tank top and a cute white and pink skirt for going out in Bangkok.  A girl’s gotta look good sometimes.  Got sucked into buying live DVDs of Creedence and a John Lennon tribute concert.  This mall has everything from an office depot, to a movie theater, video games, jewelry, grocery stores, a thai cafeteria, and even individual glass karaoke stalls complete with black leather couches, TV’s, and microphones.  Almost every one was taken.  These people seriously love karaoke, it’s the funniest thing in the world.  We wanted to go do it, but unfortunately they only have like ten songs in English and they all sucked, so we scratched that.  After we shopped for all our items (so happy to find a package of salami, gouda cheese, and a fresh baguette!) we had a snack at Micky D’s and went back home.  But we did run into one of our friends from the program at the store, that was just so crazy!  We made plans to hang out next weekend and go to some local bars in Ayutthaya, so excited! 

The walk from the van to the house with all our groceries was only about five minutes, but I was drenched in sweat by the time we got there.  So I just figured I would stay that way and went to work doing dishes, sweeping, beating the dirt-covered rugs outside and general house cleaning.  I was really sweating by the end of that!  What a workout.  There is just so much dirt and grime here that it makes it hard for our floor not to have little bits of crap everywhere that gets stuck to your feet.  Needless to type, I had to take another shower, and now we will probably watch another few episodes of True Blood, to which I have become a chronic addict in just the last four days.  I’m almost done with the entire first season.  Here we go again.  Lemon out.  

Time: You Elusive Design

This week went by fast.  Time speeds, time slows, time stops and goes when your locked in the throes of its grip, depends on which bottle you sip, the tip of the topic you pick.  It makes me happy, and it makes me sick, stuck in some invisible trick, as if life were a flick to fast forward and rewind, but no matter how it moves there's never enough time.

Again the thunder cracked in the night, woke me from my slumber right when I was dreaming of you.  Leaning towards thinking this dream might be true.  Poetry speak in the red and blue of the flashes that come flashing through, breaking fantasies in two.  I know not who I am here.  A friend of travel who fears inside the openings traveling finds.  New loves to lose, favorite students to choose, different booze to drink, fresh thoughts to think, I sink like the sun when the day is done into extracted ink.  Then I blink, just once, and months have passed since I saw you last, beloved lover.  Cover your eyes, little girl, baby girl, the world will rise when the planets twirl and all your senses seem to swirl like the milky shades of a mother pearl, or waves of ocean frothed up to unfurl.

I simply cannot describe the life I lead without the edge of poetry, it bleeds through the threads of each thought in my head, and all I can do is write till I'm dead.  Till the cows come home, till the stars all fall, combing through language enthralled by it all, called by something, maybe a muse, to write of the various whites and blues.  So many hues, so little time to love all the truths that will never be mine.  So time and color are rhymes and lovers that shovel themselves on my heart.  I fear the rainbow will rip it apart.  And that is why I always restart.  New beginnings, new worlds to chart, Thailand and the jungle dark wait for me to move and mark territories of hungry sharks.