(from the moon series)
at the café in Tanger. Eats something
vegetarian, drinks the mint tea and writes.
Dreams of passion, studies the method,
learns the sadness of Rwanda and travels
alone while the ocean remains untamed.
While the age starts to show in the hostels
at night. While the casbah hangs over the Atlantic
coast. While the noise in the Petit Socco resounds.
Hannah moon roams around the markets,
looks for something so hard she's bound find it.
Apr 11, 2010
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
Mad Moon Over Mehringdamm
It was the whisper behind your words, after being scared shitless by the description of the eight of cups, that triggered the vanishing of o...
-
of standing in a room full of people listening to my friend of twenty three years introduce me. He talks of ping pong and sail bo...
-
it was hungry, i could tell the yellow bicycle i was ten, it was hungry it was raining, i heard the window told me i could tell, that old fe...
-
(from the moon series) The last stop before sleep. The idle lights and cold marble ground. The conveyor belts of the soul. Someone ha...
No comments:
Post a Comment