Voyage 2020

Voyage twenty twenty / The greenhouse gases have escaped and it’s far too late for irony / Father, you rested your convictions / like fine china / on the collapsing coastal shelf / The countess sits on the lounge chair / frying in the sunlight / She counts flying sheep and dreams / of what’s on the other side of the hotel ivy / The ghost of the cactus wears a brimmed hat / adorned with arsenic and phoenix feathers / We are febrile and flightless / in the land of plenty / The countries part ways / with themselves and with each other / We make cheesecake and place our faith / in the children we neglected to empower / We have been burned and won’t give up / But right now I want to shrink to the size of a seed pod / float on a cocktail umbrella / across the evaporating water table / tap dance along the eroded high road / over the fault line tablecloth / Like we can really love / Like we really knew / what it means to love

A poem reconstructed from semi-legible rainstained sharpie on a folded office envelope, located in the trunk of my now defunct Saturn when I cleaned it out the final time January 2020. The line about irony is a quote from Robert Montgomery, spoken during our many rounds of cognac at the Chateau Marmont last December, the last time I flew anywhere. The line about love is paraphrased from Neil Young.

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