Untitled Travel Piece

Angelically and menacingly the foreign waters sweep
Over lost sandals and old compasses
Is this really a country?
Or no more than a line in a notebook?
Mountains stretch off into the sunset
In front and behind me
Accomplished and postcarded
Stamped and franked Discarded.
Is there anything more life can bring?
Just damp walls, dank toilets, broken tiles, day bags

Revellers in the sun
Faceless birds with big bags on their backs
"When are you going home?"
"When I feel alone."
Ashes scattered
Over four corners of the earth
And a dusty map
That some guy drew for you
The sun is setting
But I'll be somewhere new by tomorrow

So turn on the news
Get a plane to Belarus
You're in a traffic jam
And you can't see a way through
Comfort zones
Just stay at home?
It's all too scary

Is there nothing more you can see
Than your own face reflected in the TV screen?
become Luxuries
Oh, please.