the veritable excursions

we don't have possesions
just attachments
equity eventually redeemed
for the boarding passes
of a shipless cruise
destiny a port
not totally in view
until the last
leg

and the euphoria of endless
free camels and bacardi
dissipate
as exotic dreams
and travel hype
bury themselves in
the commonness of
baking sand
and photogenic
palms
you'll have the same
as everybody else
when you finally lie down
the deepest of tans
won't stay with you

and living
is the risqué
of a double-entendre
the unexpected sequel
of unraveling fiction
the intellection
of wide-eyed amibition
and whimsical
dreamscapes

and tonite
the protagonist
Henry Pelham
a berry pickin' pro
a mogul expert in the science of the
slopes, nurturer of bunker crops
and breaking boughs
and I stretch again
for the next notch in the vine
a drunken swivel
of red tape leading up
to imaginary blue skies
(or
maybe to an imaginary certificate
of full performance
or
maybe an imaginary vineyard of crashing jets
and tabloid paparazzi
who knows ...*!)
surrender to a bouquet
of fermenting rare
(but still pickable)
picks

last week it was my brother Tom two eggs
over easy at Moe's
the Elvis paraphernalia on the tavern walls
overdone and spicy but the conversation
simmering and palatable

this morning it was danishes
and upgraded bandwidth
thunder and rain periodic
the dish outside on track as a brandless mouse
scaled the face of virtual nirvana

later on it'll be Rickard's Red
and sirloin tip with my son and fiance
and we'll probably talk about silly things like poetry
and dream homes, other fictitious structures
and I'll pick up the tab make another
installment against my future cruise to paradise
knowing, as in most destination packages
even though the price of the hype seems out of reach,
the blowing smoke and bottomless jugs
will somehow be accounted for
in the cost of the plan