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Paris

Overheard

Thank god for chat gpt. Or better thank chat gpt there is a god. Not a reversal but an affirmation because what is god but the conduit by which we find our veins to once more run with the blood we have heard of?

We have long since, and I am speaking only of Americans, because of others I do not know much about, sought a frictionless way by which to worship ourselves. The image in the mirror being too perfect a representation, for we do no seek ourselves to be perfectly reproduced but rather re-interpreted in a way that in still reflection but in between which there is a layer that we can all come together and agree is not us.

Overheard and then imagined

And how did you know they were lesbians?

Well, one was kissing her girlfriend.

The other girl?

No, someone else.

Autre chose?

People do not want to be recognized. I am much happier when a stranger approaches me in French (the mistake is quickly recognized), than if they had seen me as American to begin with. And this is not because I desire to be French, in which case I would just nod silently, but because for a beautiful moment they have seen me as something not myself, and better yet, I can say “that is not me”.

Wengen

The American has the right to shit and this is perhaps the greatest distinction.

Altar

The slope congregates in firs reaching up. I can only wonder at what it is they crowd for.

The clouds are opened to peak upon the alter, chatter raining down. I think I understand but could not explain it.

Coast of Italy

Silent eulogy

The osprey looks tired too. Talons duller, the fatter fish is pricked and only laughs.

“Sorry I’m American.”

Winds blow by faster than before but they were even faster then. This is how to bait a hook. Too much worm on the hook and on my finger. I will clean it for you.

Cataracts reflecting sea foam off the iris. Sea foam casting cataracts off the epipelagic zone.

The bones are failing, sores that cannot fully heal.

But the falling part is easy, and osprey’s wings can take their rest.

He’s plunging deeper than he’s gone before, where bigger fish are waiting. This catch will not need pulling up.

Fingers interlacing. No blood to twirl out either it is too dark here to see.

Death the final catch.

Rome

It is very hot

So I did not write much at all.

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