two weeks
in and out
a perpetual
Go
Go
Go
from New York
to Maryland
(to Adelphi, to Baltimore, to Ocean City, to Frederick, to DC)
to New York
to Upstate
(to Batavia, to Byron, to Elba, to Waterport)
to New York
and now
are we still
Go…Go…?
from Brooklyn
to the Bronx
to Manhattan
and back
and back
and back?
or is there a moment
of rest
to recover
(or is the rest
also going to be
from bedroom
to Zoom
to Zoom
to Zoom
continually
ad infinitum
and on and on and on?)
tasting honey,
drinking mead,
and though i probably didn’t meet the bees
that made theses particular batches
(i really should look up the lifecycle of a honeybee)
i do feel a bit of a sense of pride
in the deliciousness
of their work
thanks bees!
hiking up Machu Picchu
elevated
inclinated
[yes, i know the word “inclined” there would be fine]
my breath failed me
over
and over
and over again
i learned that “possibility of very slight asthma”
that i was diagnosed with
in childhood
really hits you
when the air surrounding you steals your lung capacity.
i was never good at cardio
even now that i’m more fit than i ever was as a child
i dread anything that gathers my heart rate into higher levels
so though i love walking around nature,
the concept of “hiking” only brings joy to my heart,
until we are no longer on level ground.
inclines remind me of the never-ending upwards motion
when my lungs gave out
(but we had places to be
and a time to be there by)
but hiking through the park yesterday
a small amount of incline
to get to a nice picnic area
surrounded by shady tress
i did ok.
(it shouldn’t be surprising
DC is not nearly as far above sea level
as Cusco,
but any upwards movement
comes with a great deal of apprehension)
and i did ok
and we all did ok
(just ok, we could have done better,)
and both my spouse and i
commented
on how four flights of stairs
for the last year and a half
should make us better at hiking up inclines
but it sure does not.
who really is
good
at goodbyes?
~~~
when i visit new places
i associate certain parts of them
with places i’ve been before
“this area reminds me of the east side of Madison”
“this one gives me big Toronto energy”
“well, this is like if Milwaukee and Cleveland had a baby…”
on and on,
until i see something truly unique,
or i’ve been there long enough
to associate it with itself.
~~~
stomach aches
is it packing stress?
is it travel anxiety?
is it getting back into the “real” world?
or is it the apprehension of expectation for more adventure
now that we’re both vaccinated and activated?
fixed the coffee maker
got so excited
messed it up a different way
new mistakes
~~~
interesting that i poem
about the banal
when i wish for such adventure
in my life
is it simply because poetry
is usually more introspective
than not?
(unless, of course, we are talking old school,
whole story,
epic poetry)
or is its because
i want to get a bit better
and poetry-ing
before i go on such excursions
with words?
~~~
of course
(of course)
i cannot have a short poem day
with only two.
the third poem is what
ties it all together
and makes my anxiety
settle down
(just a bit)
i held a honey bee,
let it crawl up and down my bare hand
lifted my fingers to see it bumble around
it flew off awkwardly
dropped to the ground
where i rescued it
and let it crawl on me once more
before flying off toward its hive
and i tasted honey straight from the comb
the floral notes gently caressing my taste buds
and i learned so much about bees and honey
i shared scads of fun facts with friends
and i wonder to myself
“could this be a new hobby?”
[probably not, but it’s nice to let the imagination run away sometimes]
i keep forgetting to write my actual
travel
poetry
until this next morning
(so i’m scurrying to write my daily poetry
about how i’m feeling this morning,
first thoughts,
first impressions of the day,
and afterwards i try to reach back
to yesterday
and how that travel/day/adventure felt.
and of course,
posting it
from today
into yesterday
because i am nothing
if not
consistently
procrastinatory)
when one is not plagued
by friendship degradation mechanics
a special vacation
to see old friends
can nearly immediately
feel abnormally normal
to the point where
you kind of forget
where you are
or how old you are
(or everything else that has happened these last few years
when folks ask how your life has been…)
~~~
driving
still equals freedom
but the freedom
explored
in the united states of america
isn’t really that free
(when was it ever?)
~~~
how are toddlers
both
straight up babies
and tiny real humans
at the same time?
i went into a Barnes and Noble yesterday
and, as a friend stated,
it was unnaturally normal.
the stacks were all stacked,
sales, clean shelves, bright lights,
like they had just shut down regularly one night
and opened the next day with everyone wearing masks.
and i bought too many books
(potentially to make up for my spouse not being there;
our usual date night: book shopping)
and we still had our membership active
(as if the last year and a half on pause hadn’t even happened)
the normalcy
is throwing me
eating under an umbrella at a bar/grill,
pushing strollers through outdoor malls,
playing on communal playgrounds…
don’t misunderstand me,
i am fully vaccinated,
and i am aware of how the virus spreads
and the evidence of safety in small outdoor gatherings,
and i am beyond grateful for how things have worked out
and that i finally get to hug my friends tight
(touch being my romantic and platonic love language)
but i’ve lived a year and a half in unknowns
(we all have)
of trying to be as careful as possible and then some
knowing not everyone “believes” in this clearly observable fact,
this virus killing thousands (and leaving more with irreversible repercussions)
so i am used to being overly cautious
and this exploration into ‘normal’
…i am absolutely waiting for the other shoe to drop.
kipventures 