Travelling Thoughts
it was announced today that the world will be subdivided into new categories
no more countries
continents
towns
provinces
archipelagos
as we now know them
one plot of land for every man
woman
child
total land mass divided by total population
fourteen and a bit square metres per person
i’ll visit your plot if you’ll visit mine
she sent me a postcard of a football stadium
here i am
she said
come and catch me before i score
(no indication of time period: a football season, i rationalised)
she drew a little picture of herself on the pitch
nelson mandela was shaking hands with vladimir putin
he in turn shook hands with another man
(a villager from uttar pradesh who’d come all the way to the capital)
they were now going to be neighbours in istanbul
indeed
they were to share
with five international representatives of good fortune and corruption
a palace filled with whores
who had (each and all) been placed in coldest desert
desolate wasteland discomfort
desolate desperate women and men
more ready to serve and (yes in that sense) serve
than to freeze
she was writhing in the sack when her breath brought back a memory
the throws and strains of servitude
the mantra of progression
his pheromones
spitting shit in her nostrils - full stop
like a dreaming beast attacked by thought
her body flinched
while the one beneath her
gained grunting pace and climactic confidence
he pulled out and embarrassed her face with his spray
i’ve just received word that one of my dearest friends
(dear old beach dwelling former european representative of the year)
was relocated to grid reference B4
(as was i)
and while i am (within B4) in the north western (eight one five) outer L region
and he is
south (south east) B4 (neil armstrong) province
it is nonetheless (i am sure many of you will agree)
something to celebrate
we plan to meet come christmas time come weather permitting
yes
i loved her udu (udu is from ituri in the previously much troubled
democratic republic of the congo) and i may well love her still
still?
still
still?
i don’t know udu - i think maybe she’s met a footballer who is strong and?
?
you are strong mr jamie? (that’s really what he said to me)
and i am glad to have met you
me too you udu
(i reply with tears rolling dramatically - truthfully - down my face)
me too udu
and even though (of course) we are speaking different languages
and nothing can be known for certain or for (land or) shore
neither udu
nor i
nor janet from subdivision eight one three
nor emanuel from subdivision eight two five
nor oswald from subdivision eight two four
nor hin from subdivision seven nine six
nor katie (who subdivided my heart fifteen years ago)
can possibly fully grasp that we are all engaged in the same conversation
when i sleep i dream of her and when i wake i?