Sailing Through Zurich

A bon voyage: six weeks

trussed in the languishing punctuality, happy-

go-winding up … stroll

 

along the Langstrasse, mull of Chagall’s

murky windows, an empyrean opening

to much-needed revisions …

 

When I embarked for greener pastures,

shores shorn of the daily absolution,

my intentions … still unannounced

 

might have left a lingering impression

I’d be back … to pick up the pieces.

As I tried to explain: my purges --

 

the conception of an angel, being

tied to a straight and narrow obligation of a way

was a concession I wasn’t inclined to concede.  

 

The soul’s compass was not a flesh and blood concern.

When it rained, you got wet, or

bought yourself an umbrella …

 

Your simple-minded obsession with time,

the constant creep of late-night cloud-

banks, overdue fondues … wasn’t how

 

I wanted to live my life. Having been born

under a dark star, the stain of almost

a b*****d had singed my sensibilities,

 

stirred appetites to Hadean waves

only Persephone could soothe.

If stranded, or short on cab fare, you took a bunk

 

wherever the eyes landed … and

if they were serving coffee and croissants

in the morning, didn’t mind sharing

 

a toothbrush, the day’s cosmic comics …

a second night could be dialed in.

When in Rome as they say …

 

The Vatican was never a working option.

The only saint I knew was Simon Templar …

the uninterrupted journey of perfect strangers

 

spooled out into an unfastened invitation

to Mrs. Peel’s aureole gloriole …   

this unmistakable yen for the airiness

 

of Swiss cheese … Love

lost, heart-hardened, restless

for dangerous wakes --

 

there never was an easy way to say:

I no longer cared for the reign of crimson

droplets, your fiery molt …

 

we’d reached the crazy peur bleu

of common utilities. I’d drained the cup,

and left nothing but air …

 

it was time I set my sails for the Limmat. 

Ken e Bujold

Reviews

[emmajoygreen]

There is such a subtle use of language her, adventuring here and there with pauses and gasps, reminders and knowledge that remind me of Hesse.. I think. Is almost a journal of emtions set in moody broody place. - if that makes sense compared to your own very personal language. Will read this again, perhaps place this or that under a microscope :
'If stranded, or short on cab fare, you took a bunk .. wherever the eyes landed .. and if they were serving coffee and croissants .. n the morning, didn’t mind sharing toothbrush, the day’s cosmic comics .. a second night could be dialed in '

[W. Barrett Munn]

I am consistently amazed at the depths of your knowledge and ability to weave your lexicon into bite-sized bits of diction and syntax that swirls through time and spaces to land just where it should.
Brava.

Winston

[Red Brick Keshner]

Almost breathless, as being whisked to and fro... sailing through with headwinds, tailwinds and trade winds!

[M]

This reads like you are a traveller; one who follows the wind and sees where it takes you. You'll discover these places living by simplistic means and then move on once you have drank your glass full. Zurich and Switzerland in general is supposed to be such a clean living, beautiful place to visit. So, in a sense, you are lucky you drank your glass full whereas many would be grateful to even catch your wind. An interesting poem.

[Ken e Bujold]

thanks for the review Makhabat. Drop by and visit anytime

ken