I'm in an internet cafe. Across from Aaron Allen. We're in Waterton, Canada where his family has a beautiful cabin in the mountains. I'm here to write. To kayak a bit. Learn how to golf?
Today, we kayaked Lake Cameron. We lost track of time (neither of us wear a watch and it was overcast) and we ended up being on the water for 7 hours. It's been a few crazy days of traveling for me. Flying to LA, getting some In and Out, and then James Appel being so kind to drive me to a different airport so I could fly to Canada.
This is what I wrote while I was at LAX. I was a little delirious but I like it.
LAX – 4:40 AM
You are undauntable, you are American.
A self made sun.
Here, in the waiting room of your heart,
I feel your wheels, I stride the gears.
I get up and wade your pools like fuel.
Our need is your on switch.
Our travel itch, that we have to get off
and get on and on. Infinity.
From this great glass,
I spy every plane splash
into the surf of the Pacific.
They taxi in where worker men
swing fronds of palm to beat
clean the cling of clouds.
Stretch those wings a while.
Cool your jets, man.
Let your uniformed brain take a walk.
It’s good to change your mind.
Put me in an orange vest.
I will spread seed for your birds.
Clean the tarmac with leftover java.
I can spell out love notes in lights
to all your most faithful lovers.
If the Big Earthquake comes,
LAX, I have no doubt
every plane here will grasp you up
by their rubber feet
and carry you to another land
ready for your busy heart.
