Vacation Feeling


Boat travelling, looking for gold, sewing into belts, moving three legged. making country.

out in the norm

  thing unknown the other. It grows out from the eye rather than the eye

place transference, absorbing boundaries moved through.

what my grandmother would say

  we travel because we saved up money. Our work was one thing and the travel was

well forgotten. When we were young we travelled for necessity. To populate lands, to spread words, in

order to leave the harsh reality of lands and words. The repopulation of death. We moved slowly on boats

new not quite whites following a sad track a race track a man eating shark/ culturally discarded flesh

we wanted for a lot of things and it was enough to forget about the initial travel made and work and work

and erase the land before work

The individual erased before work. Is utility a form of production, white pants?

a boundary was once a hatch mark once a thing of dispute or even a thing so abstract then who cares.

Kipling: space, lays the long lance of the road at our feet and flees before, breathless

I asked my grandmother about travel. Fleeing a place as an immigrant and then returning years later as a

tourist on a cruise as if this was the way in which to reknow the fled land aboard a gated community,
psssshw yes.