Saturday night on floor eleven
Through wide windows
City of Doha's lights.
The earth tumbles along its groove.
(Far away, rain falls on a distant sea)
Riding a pleasant vibe
Amid low light & parlor laughter,
I think on this silently.
Far away
Aborigines huddle under Uluru, greet the morning sun
Dark-eyed Hindus offer evening prayers while the river Ganges runs.
In my passage,
Stumbling along a stubborn axis,
Did I forget my name?
Wandering down a long hall,
Knocking on locked doors
A corridor of years.
Return before midnight,
Numb with a gentle oblivion
Thoughts drift in a warm sea
The room gently spins.
Sunday morning,
My rumpled bed.
Wasteland of dress shoes
Scattered across the floor.
Searching and forlorn,
Rimbaud burned out his brains
A relentless vagabond.
I wash my face,
Grind beans for my coffee
Put laundry in.
The earth rumbles on.
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