This is La Pluma Perdida
I am a last-minute plane ticket and an overweight suitcase. I am a passport, laptop, ten fingers let loose on a keyboard searching for something I lost and may not find again.
I am rootless, temperamental and drink too much. I read the plaques on the sides of old buildings. I wander into cantinas, museums and street markets. I meet people. The world has a lot to say and I am trying to listen closely.
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panic and noise at santa lucia
it’s a feverish mixture of streets for someone not used to navigating this way. am i on 66 going north or south ? i just turned on 53,.or was it 51? I’m going to 68/53, or at least that’s what I thought. At some point i just let myself get carried away follow the lights…
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me hace falta escribir
the only thing that i don’t like about this day is that I haven’t written more. what can I say? it’s been pretty goddam close to perfect. work was french toast and strong coffee and good weather in the streets and cafes of centro. afterwards was the climbing gym with sweat and powder and shouts…
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piel desnuda
Another coffee shop this morning for a light breakfast. Some light work in the morning followed by tacos and and torta for lunch. B came by shortly after I got back from lunch. We fooled around and I got very little work done. Está bien. Afterwards we went downtown do to some shopping, her hand…
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american pawn
Today is when I decided to pack for my trip. With just over 24 hours separating me from an international and possibly permanent relocation, I decided to really start packing. But first, one last breakfast in this sorry city. The day was beautiful, actually, the first clear and crisp weather we’ve had in weeks. Sat…
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It’s a sorry ass looking day
Home is an empty and dark apartment in Baton Rouge. All overcast and freezing cold for someone who can’t handle anything under 50 degrees. The few things I haven’t sold, donated, or managed to emotionally part with yet are hanging on the walls or laying pell mell on the carpet. An unsettling painting on the…