traveling

some another monday
perhaps in the middle
of a week that was lost
in a wine mist
in new orleans
perhaps that was washed away
in a shower
in a soap smelling pas de deux
that segues into a cool
walk during a sprinkle
on a dutch summer day
by the lake
with the windmills
and the bridges between
the places you didn’t mean to go

afternoons trying to make
the keyboard of your laptop
roar like a grand piano
watching the planes
leap in and out of schipol

ah the fruit and the cheese
on the train going through antwerp
on the way to paris
with vin ordinaire rouge

by hamburg the ennui
has a hint of lust
holding hands in our sleep
turning to smokey smelling whiskey
an hour away from frankfurt au main
playing with the letters of confusion
so as to spell a better word
so as to spell a happier moment
so as to write that really good poem
on some another monday