Monday, September 22, 2008

Whenever I travel I find myself possessed to madly jot down what, upon reflection, reads like beatnik poetry.

Here's a recent sample:

Nomads of transitional space;
a flux of flesh and
personal electronics, Wi-Fi
like the strident hiss
of tinnitus

Antennae and cacti mingling
in an uninhibited display
of steel and chlorophyll

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