So take me off to destinations
Covered with the dehydrated skin of pilgrims,
Lotion dripped on crystal beaches and
Liberally drizzled in the niches of history’s resorts.
To the world’s rich and poor ports, buffered
With motor boats and yachts of floating courtesans,
Where surfers earn their sport and businessmen their fortunes.
Where fishing ships and little skiffs rub rudders
With the oceans’ mighty liners and each nation’s
Freighted finest changes hands and climate.
Inland a caravan of vehicles expands to
Fill the countryside with expectant peasants, and
Their produce, eager for the sights each region
Is renowned for. Crowding mountain trails and slopes,
And rails and ropes supporting them; exhorting words
Not brought from home, and busying their bodies
To inhabit even more of it, as when in Rome behave as fabulously.
And though the seven wonders may have
Suffered in recession these seasonal site hunters
Will find a private treasure of their own.
The highs and lows, the bright and toneless
Thoroughfares of magic; take me to the edge of night
And tragedy of day; beyond the majesty of empty
Space or where every face makes off to. The wet and cold,
The warmed and stone broken, adrift amidst the
Desert’s endless sky, mankind’s glass and silver
Eye line, nature’s verge and ancient surging lava flows of land.
North, south, east or west take me wherever
Your world chooses to view us and through us
Survive, but I will still only look in your eyes.