After Owning A Pool, I

Memory Is, Of Course, A Trickster.

Everything I Pick Up Seems To Lure Me Away. Everything I Do In My Daily Life Begins To Feel Like Striking Wet Matches. The Need To Travel Is A Mysterious Force. A Desire To 'go' Runs Through Me Equally With An Intense Desire To 'stay' At Home. An Equal And Opposite Thermodynamic Principle. When I Travel, I Think Of Home And What It Means. At Home I'm Dreaming Of Catching Trains At Night In The Gray Light Of Old Europe, Or Pushing Open Shutters To See Florence Awaken. The Balance Just Slightly Tips In The Direction Of The Airport.

May Summer Last A Hundred Years.

One Of Those Flash Epiphanies Of Travel, The Realization That Worlds You'd Love Vibrantly Exist Outside Your Ignorance Of Them. The Vitality Of Many Lives You Know Nothing About. I Could Live In This Town, So How Is It That I've Never Been Here Before Today?

Any Arbitrary Turning Along The Way And I Would Be Elsewhere; I Would Be Different.