Sixty-Three

oh! look how the night air dances
smelling of untasted sea pearls and
minty smoke that whispers secrets of
other worlds and lives into your throat.

how the blackness intoxicates like
lemons and pineapples and sugar
whirling, swirling together in
unforeseen spirals in your
innards

these dances, so graceful in their
wildness, so primal in their
asynchrony, look! look how the
mind leaps free like rings of smoke,
mixed berry laughs and
dutch cards, blond hair tufts,
dark brown skin melting into
a sea of people sitting, swimming
into another friday night, another
one for the books, for the road, for the
memory garbage can,
moments to forget.

look! we dance in our seats, itching
fervently to run wild like
cows, or perhaps monkeys,
free, unrestrained!
the taste of coconut porridge and
forbidden fruit gushes through my
veins and memories of
tablas and kings, fishermen and
houseboats, mango ice creams-
everything is rushing, this cosmic
stew of life love and mystery-

home is everywhere for the
eternal wanderer