we’re in town again
all together
for a conference
of course
we’re in the city
have to come to agreements on things
gotta look at all the options
weigh them out
luckily
we can try them on for size as we build it
i’m not from here
none of us are
the town is Zuerich, the town is Amsterdam, the town is some suburb,
the town is portland, the town is tucson; you know the score
we’re in an office
we’re discussing the options
and i decide i’ve had enough with the city: let’s go for a walk
the building
tilts on its side
and becomes a seperate reality space
within it
we can move freely
through anywhere we’ve already created
in a state of constant flux
it is always, it self, changing
it’s like a ship
it’s like a grandfather clock
it’s like an office table
it’s like a library
it’s like the bedroom in those ugly new houses
and we navigate through tight streets
tight turns
old cobble stones
and huge facades….
yes
but where are the bridges?
where is the riverside?
where is the ocean?
i ask
not through words
but just by creating it
the others with me all receive it as a problem
a blip
the “room” is moving with a momentum
something we’ve created
and
not attending to it
is on a roll
people want to avoid getting their feet wet
(of course)
those loafers
barefoot
is it cold?
the sky is golden
it’s a beautiful summer day
or autumn
or spring, again
and the ocean is crystal clear
blue
bright
blue
we look at it
as we pass
walking up a
now rural road
up the hill
into the surrounding hills
mountains?
suddenly there is a stream we’re passing
i’m surprised now: i didn’t think of that
brilliant idea
in fear
the room we’re in turns back into a suburban box
it relaxes
as i grab hold of it
and lift it off
this is easy for me
as long as i can grab it
i can grab it
and i know how to pull myself up
by the soles of my feet
by the souls of my feets
we’re not walking anymore
we’re sitting again
in a canoe
through the trees
those thick green leaves
just a slight haze in the air
enough to see the sundogs
through the trees
golden
and though we’re so high up
there’s the beach
— something i had forgotten before
the beautiful sand
we walk through it barefoot
someone is
again
disturbed by this texture
so i suggest he lifts himself up
things go out of control
as one
then the other
comes up with lovely lake sides
rivers through the down town of the city
gorgeous bridges accompanying them
though they are very far behind us now
we see them clearly
and they are curious how i lifted up
i pull up the room
and do my best to navigate it through the thickening trees
realizing the weight is now too much for me
as our paths become more and more disparate
i put my hands on my friend
and start describing
again, not in words
and i pull up on him
not with my hands
but with my belly
and he lifts up
so heavy
so clumsy
and i release him from my grip
and he manages to get through the trees
one by one
with my help or their own inspiration
they are lifting
we are all floating free
and i call out
they turn and look, then
what is the choice?
is it an ocean?
is it a river?
a lakeside? a waterfall?
where is it?
down there or up here?
and i puzzle
a few join me
others stare in patience
or exasperation
while we come to the realization
it is all
some places are rivers
some places are oceans
some stormy and dangerous
some bright and blue
blue veins, blue
running through he town
this idea of ours
these ideas of ours
as endless as our imagination at creating it
of course
as you come upon it
you got a different idea from one of us
this is venice
this is “Dark Land”
this is Chicago
this is Amsterdam, Hamburg
golf courses
Rio de Janeiro
wherever you can imagine
to go
and be there
watching the golden light fall through the air
i’m glad it was so simple to realize
as i wake up to the rumbling train in portland
or vancouver, in those ugly new houses
(i went to sleep with his iPod playing, some old 15GB version
the music he had selected was “Coyote Old Man”
before i found the portal to sleep
i started thinking about the bar i’ve seen around the world:
“Coyote Ugly”
meant for pretty college girls
verging on strippers
meant to get drunk with the boys
messes all of them
how do you conceive this?
i wondered
how does it take on so strong?
a flag ship in Champaign-Urbana?
then, in Iowa City “what a good idea! let’s have one here!”
somewhere in London it seems like a good money maker:
a visit to a village of AMERICA
i drift off
and upon waking
remember St Francis Park that i found yesterday
before meeting up with Sheridan
a fountain unlike any i’d seen
made to look like an abstract metalworks
with a little latino girl getting her little black dress wet
down along a winding brick walk
like victorian england
what i saw in the movies yesterday at Brideshead
a fort in the center of it with a bridge leading to it
what fun for kids
aye, what fun for all of us.)
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