Anybody? Out there somewhere?

Brennendes Feld - Burning Field 30 x 25 cm acryl on canvas

OUT THERE SOMEWHERE AND NOBODY KNOWS WHY

Call it a road trip, if you prefer,

we’re passing through Iowa now,

Illinois or Indiana, I’m not sure which,

the infamous fat lands anyway

spread out like an ample woman on the sofa

watching Oprah and daytime reality

a small town in the corner of a corn field

and that is where two lovely girls

are dancing barefoot on a dirty carpet

in the lobby of the local massage parlor—

something on the radio by the Doobie Brothers—

but by the time all of this has registered

we’re in Santa Cruz dabbling in hands-on  

surf board technology, smoking reefer beneath

the boardwalk roller coaster, yet suffering 

wave envy whenever we think of L.A. The police

ask a few questions, then literally throw us out of town. There’s

a brawl in Tijuana, a chair used as a club,

a number of busted cue-sticks.  At some point

we are strolling through a Tuscan hill town, the ramparts of which

just before sunset emit that warm golden

light of freshly baked bread; later we eat wild boar

and drink a jug of Vino Rustico; and we wonder, yes we do, how we

got here, together, still alive, smiling through broken teeth.