Beached

May 02.09.2015

Berlin-Lido di Venezia-Berlin

Berlin:

I woke up this morning to read a lonely text to read out of lonely eyes

We drank late morning tea out on the terrace

amongst the herb garden

at some point I cried

I avoided my flight all day

I changed out of my pyjamas into another pair of pyjamas

I ate two breakfasts

I made a mess when my intention was to clean

I didnt get my banking done

But I can imagine all will work out in the end

When I arrive at the Marco Polo airport

a man will be waiting for me holding a sign with my name on it at the arrivals gate

He will drive me 40 minutes somewhere to my hotel

for the rest of the week I will live in a tent

Soundtrack: “Holding a Sign With My Name on it”

Lido:

Pitched tent

narrow road

the sea just hangs off its sleeve

like any good freeloader would

the sky darkens

a machine made shadow

and a cruise ship bands the sky

hovering over houses

like a cross between an elephant and a private eye

the sweet little Italian man

dressed casually to the nines

can only step a quarter of a foot at a time

but he walks

he never hails a taxi

I've seen him shuffling all about town

everyday he makes it home for dinner

the man in a smooth navy . length walking coat and black shades

stands at the ledge of the boardwalk reflective horizon line glisten listen

off a single sheet of classical prose he recites a forgotten vernacular to the seaside

his hands jarring the air loose lines in the wind

the sun icing over his silver hair while greasing his sienna skin

he turns back around to his friend who is sitting on a wooden bench

the man perched out his Venezian window sill

holds his landscape with his upper body with immensity

later in the evening he is passes by in a wheelchair

with immensity

house red and escargot

the people sitting to the right of me may be from my home town

my home town

at what point in our lives do we start to use words like 'wow' and 'jeez' as points of eviction

sans seaside mermaid delay

farce energy display

aquatic metallic pink fitted gathering

sunrise drop surprise

red lips

moonlight

joker sadness

stacker assemblage

if you look down the red and blue strobe spot light

looks burgandy and brown

feet move

feet move!!!

ladder lays lateral

bright light dark path

face block head lamp

but of course,

desert visage

sandy blonde salt sea hair

bearded beauty

eyes the colour of fader kelp

smoked taupe wool knit sweater with a button

bags out at the sleeve

casual khaki slacks hang loose

sun bleached chestnut skin with age will turn into historical saddle brown

leather memories through creases

collective narratives through genuine approach

how to consider the sun while holding tight under the moon

his embrace

his hands

Soundtrack: Post magic more magic

Berlin:

Don't forget the South


























































































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