| Author | Message | ||
| M
Board Administrator Username: mjm Post Number: 3755 Registered: 11-1998 |
Honorable Mention Seaman’s Club, Antwerp Michael Julius Sottak free internet and blonde biere the bus runs out the low coast to the docks the eyes are different from Dijbouti, Nigeria, the Phillipines... Pieter studied in Vermont all he could remember was the green overwhelming green rolling out of sunsets and rises and valleys... his eyes sharp and young his wife alone on the North Coast of Poland, waiting... he laughed with me, how he shortened his name so Americans could pronounce it... we became kin that way years apart my disciple without preaching~ his face flushed with mirth when i told him... "getting there is all the fun, not the money, false trophies~ look at these eyes around us, it's the adventure, we're the one's that never lose... eyes of Jakarta, a rapsody in Rasta white teeth flashing in neon wash above the diesel hum... "Hey, Mon, dis mine~ pier 21." racked concrete and rusty containers pot holes filled with ice empty pallets stacked against warehouse 42131 halyards ring to crescendo in North Sea Wind funnel down the halogen stalks money a rat scurries across tarmac time eaten |
