still passenger

the still passenger sits on a train, on the window seat, in the middle of a long car. these are the days when there were drive-in movie theaters dotted across the landscape. at dusk, the images on the screen appear off in the distance. the images presented here are those which are glimpsed, the ones that still her thoughts. the train rolls along. the landscape seems to move, but doesn't. the still passenger sits alone with her snapshots in her mind. she's filling in the spaces.

September 27, 2015

autumn is already showing some skin. september
will bring a bridge.

a bridge is a metaphor. the ancients of inca knew
about bridges. have you seen these? i wonder if
bosch envisioned these grasses growing in his
"el jardin de las delicias" ...

no matter the material, bridges are connectors.
bridges are intention. bridges are perseverance.
bridges are energy. bridges are time.

oh, how the days i spent with etienne built a bridge!
day by day, until a length of years were placed, we moved
forward together while we labored solo.
little by little by little... a bridge.

bridge: a gradual process of creating a connector
from one place to another or between entities.

chantal linnaeus

July 26, 2015

her father not only doesn't have the fortune maria said he had, he's indigent.
he's lived in various shelters the past two years.

maria must have had some reason for this fabrication.
maybe she had a need to test me.

if i am not being tested, maybe she felt she was insufficient
unless she created an allure of some kind.

i have regrets still, but a very long time back i made up a complicated lie
to "win" a woman. i convinced her i was very ill.
i don't even know where the idea came from.

what was i thinking? her father was a doctor which i was aware of,
and my lie eventually involved him as well. it's a long story.
maria claiming her father has a fortune pales in contrast.

mpb