L'aura del Campo

A selection of recent odds and ends

Commuting

5 in the morning, train to catch. I must go to work in a blizzard. Coffee won't help. A good-bye hug wouldn't hurt; but I dare not wake him up. I move quickly, quietly. Winds rattle windows; chill creeps along the pine floor. There my lover rests on a woven mat, covered with a down comforter. No one comforts me. I sigh as I leave, in one movement open and shut the door.

         sunrise
         feathered lover
         sleeping

Fragments:

The greatest song that I can sing,
The song that only I can sing:
The Song of Myself.

A scummy veil.
A certain slant of light.
How the water bends the knife
soaking in the pail.

Under midnatt solen
Lyset synger og sommer gjesper
Over fjella, over enga.
Folket sover og går til senga
Gatane tømmes og Aksla våkner.

CV Vamp Puns:

Brett: another way to spell brat. His wurst always seeks hot buns. He'll be run out of town if he doesn't behave; or worse, be shunned.

Mr. Nightengale: the scarlet letter , the red V, the source of our elixir, the dapper keeper of life-giving blood.

Czeszniak: one pun follows another. Questions are pointed, answers deep rivers. What pain propels his laughter we'll never know.

Knyflok: fog forms over cold waters, a warm breeze brings mist. Both wrap us in forgetfulness.

Clovia: vermillion drips in a swirl over the door to her barber shop. Beware her razor.

Bawang: do not ask whether Bawang is male or female. Respect fangs that have no gender, that are sharpened every day.

Thoom: sees what once was sunshine hidden in the shadows or what weak ember, ignored, may blaze tomorrow.

Le canal de St. Martin

We float pink, turquoise, yellow. The bright colors of commerce, the rattty leavings of refuse. We look up at the boats, nuzzle them along the water-line. We sleep against the canal's stone walls, brighter than hyacinths in bloom in the park, almost as fragrant. We lose our individuality, slowly melding into the stagnant stench of in this forgotten eddy. We float joined each day by new plastic hues, bloat then sink. In this corner of a famous canal in a famous city, we remain unseen.

         tri-color
         flowered flag
         sinks