30 degrees

Sitting in the airport, fan blowing, hiding the
fact that it is more than 30 degrees right now.

The locals are on their phones
but the tourists are familiar and waiting
with blank expression, checking boarding
'receipts'. And mismatched accents.

Looking out through the glass windows
that every airport seems to have, see
navy-dark green mountains and plenty
of clouds. They are far off, far
from the happily flat land for
bicycle riding.

The murmur is gibberish to us. Quacking
with the odd trace of 'real' accent,
and we stand, waiting for the delayed
plane, calling 'cheat' at the cards we
were dealt by strangers.

20/9/2011

<-- break glass to release door

There was a growl and a hum and i wondered
what day would bring.
The soft-toed slippers boarded the plank
and queued like no other species she'd seen.
If for a moment her eyes were held by
a brightly coloured scarf -
or hat -
it made her feel as if something could still be done.
The smell was nothingness, sterile plastic
with top notes of ozone.
The elevators made a mess of things
and all around (including the floor
and the chair she approached with caution)
was
white.

8/2/2011

9:55 am

Leave it alone
she said
before proceeding to recite the
vowels of the alphabet (in order of importance).

They stood there with their
3-tipped hats
and surveyed the expanse.

An endless-seeming apocalypse
of green trees,
old growth,
fuzzy slippers,
warmth.

In the midst of all this
the girl with dizzy eyes
began to recite her ode to finality.

And we shifted the coconuts, while
sitting on our deckchairs.

8/2/2011