One Way or Another

Lampharos on the rocks with a lime
is the number one drink of Lesser Turkmenistan,
at least according to the
“2173 Guidebook of Local Haunts”.
Although this is an antiquated drink and guidebook
in most parts of the world,
I have chosen to go about this journey
as a naïve traveler, unaware
of the recent local customs.
This method tends to treat me well,
as long as I’m minding my manners
and pretending that I may be affluent
in one way or another.

LXVI

The orange contraband is burning holes in our collective pockets; we’ll need to stop our traveling and find inconspicuous places to drop it all. A hospital, chiropractor’s office, traveling circus or really any other healthcare establishment would cover our asses sufficiently. Once free of the encumbrance, we’ll need to choose where to go next for the good of the outfit. Of course, splitting up will be necessary, likely into seven or eight groups. Going down our separate routes, we should think about formulating our distinct fight songs and coats of arms–at least working ideas of them–so we may stave off insanity on our long journeys and be prepared for a quick upstart upon our arrivals. We may seem uninvited to these new places, so we must remind ourselves that familiarity breeds contempt, pledging to never get too comfortable, even though many of us will likely spend the remainders of our lives in these environments. Sleep with one eye open–both, if possible. You should already have received a dossier informing you of this and several other urgent matters critical to your survival. Heed these words and always remember your place among the all-time leaders and inspirations for change–and sometimes jubilant dancing, if the mood strikes.

And Other Such Exploits

By the end of the journey,
we will have told
a million and one stories

about how old Grant Moon conquered
the people of the Moon
and other such exploits.

Oh, what a grand old time
it will have been.
Come to think of it,

we will want to have packed
some peanut butter sandwiches.
I will return having been embarrassed

because I forgot to pack them
even though I’d remembered
to make them.

Up River, Looking

Left by the wayside with a pincushion in my mouth and an unwavering desire to turn into a penguin of some sort, I ripped a stitch from a feathered cap and unraveled the entirety of my surroundings one garment at a time. I went up to a gentleman (at least a man who appeared to exhibit gentle qualities) and ripped the chapeau from his head, forgetting that I’d already altered a head-covering. I then apologized for my amateur mistake and replaced the hat (though not without feeling the material and guessing where it was made (before reading the tag: Sri Lanka). I looked around for a scarf, but there were no ladies of suitable standing from whom I could steal such a regal accoutrement. I was puzzled, and decided that I hadn’t quite reached shirt territory without at least finding my first scarf. I then began to wander aimlessly across the plaza, wondering if I would ever find a scarf (considering the blistering summer heat). I grew weary (considering the blistering summer heat) and sought a resting place. The first patch of shade I found was located six hundred and forty-seven yards away from my initial realization of fatigue, and it sure took me a long time to reach it (a lone willow tree by a dried up river, looking rather droopy and not at all in the mood to shelter a tired traveler). I took a seat under the boughs and noticed a fine lady of royal standing resting just two meters to my right, scarf and all. Taking the situation into account, I made a snap judgment and grabbed the fabled garment. My grabbing was quite forceful and I awoke her from her light sleep. She gurgled and rolled her eyes while appearing to doubt my very existence. She seemed to accept her position as the victim in this position, letting me gradually unwrap this intricate (and obviously valuable) scarf. It took me four minutes to remove the garment, which measured seventeen feet (give or take a yard). I said a quick “thank you” and scurried off, not rested after my arduous journey, but nevertheless energized by this encounter.