Tales from Topographic Oceans

and if you're going to pondicherry be sure to wear some flowers in your hair.
5 of us.
wake up to rain. rain in the sky. rain in the sea. rain in the sand. rain born of your fingers.
rain in your mouth. everything is water. the sea is falling from the sky.

we stayed in a mango yellow house with pink flowers.
and a tamilian cook who only spoke french.
he made us soup. everything flooded.
I explode.

everybody wants to sleep. sing their dreams to sleep.
I'm tired of dreaming.
rent a cycle. and swim in the streets
a blue fish on a bicycle.
(even this seems like a dream)
why does it always rain on me?
my clouds follow me around.
grey and bursting like fruit.
I float paperboats in gutters.
lonely. hungry. thirsty.
I was waiting for the sun. and it came out
like a pink lotus
or an orange unpeeled.
map of pondicherry. scribbled on.
left white where i walked alone.

Scans from my notebook.
Pondicherry
December 2007