Recording the experience in our audio diary
reminds me of Kant -
head stuck in cloud
walking his puppy dog in the park every afternoon like clockwork:
too much time spent burning Tana leaves
playing board games with mysoginists
sipping lemonade from street vendors
whose labyrinthine robes promised hypnotic delights
from the second of seven levels at blowout prices.
Little wonder we were told our eyes would play tricks!
You recognize the brother I never had.
A street urchin panhandles a dog then a cat.
The afternoons peter out
despite repeated attempts by email to revitalize things:
bills interspersed with postcards
including one from Giza with pop-up pyramids
which resembles in some strange way
DΓΌrer's Perspective Study of Recumbent Nude Woman.
