Exclusivity in a field of snow

removes nothing of self
(under false pretenses)
of seeing a field of snow
where every snow-flake

is one and the same.

so wonder why,
why the snow is buried
deep below
under mounds of snow.

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Lesson Plan

Café regulars, we are. Living on coffee and sandwiches. The slot machine by the door is giggling. Thinking of topics for classes is an impenetrable wall. I couldn’t sleep last night so I watched the opening scene to Tokyo Drifter, a 1966 yakuza film directed by Seijun Suzuki. I don’t remember what I watched, but there was a man walking down a train-yard. Closer and closer to the camera he came; then I tried to sleep again. Read through violence of Dante’s Inferno, and all he wanted was Beatrice. He’ll see her soon. 

Bildungsroman

What a varied host family. So far I’ve met and heard about two veterinarians, a club owner, four eccentric aunts and a fifteen-year-old Taekwondo champion – and that’s just skimming the surface of this family. I’m the foreigner with weird advice. Have I walked into a bizarre literary bildungsroman? I wonder who the central character is.

I’d show photos of Costa Rica and where I’m staying, but unfortunately, my camera was stolen. Funny, really – I put that camera through so much stress over the weekend. I nearly smashed it over a rock because I slipped and yet it persevered. Unfortunately, it could not withstand the sneaky hands of a thief. My fault. I should have been more careful.

Yes, I was in Montezuma for the 2nd and 3rd of March where the sun set me of fire. I could call it the longest weekend of my life and I loved every moment of it. To drink beer by the sea when the sky is dark is a heavenly experience. I enjoy travelling with friends, new and old (and in this case, very new). I got to practice my Spanish, at least.

And now – to begin teaching.

Witness

I wore a red scarf that day:
it just felt right
since the day froze
and my hands strangled
the warmth of breath.

I felt a little angry that day:
can’t you tell?
I’d say nobody loved me so,
but the scarf of a stranger
dropped on the road.

What was that day?

I’d tell for a cruise to the Caribbean,
or a smoke, if you’d be so kind. 
Perhaps a meal for two:
one for me,
and the other… for me.

I wore this scarf on that day,
where I watched it all happen
there, on that road:
the snow turned spotted bright,
like cherry blossoms in Japan.

I once wished to go to Japan –
because who does not?
Now, I just dream it:
and no dream has failed me yet
as I continue to fight the bloody

bloody bloody 

cold.