It’s a firework holiday,
so let’s light up the night,
wave the stars and stripes,
eat barbecue and drink bud light.

We’ll celebrate the liberties
that SCOTUS says we’ve got
it appears they’ve all been bought
and before their terms are over
they’ll resurrect Dred Scott.

Watermelon, hot wings
we’ve even added new things,
like smash & grab lootings
and frequent, random shootings.

Some Republicans want to break away
to form a less perfect union
can you form a successful nation
based on the politics of illusion?

There used to be parades
I’m told, that featured local
things, like firefighting brigades
I guess we’re just to fractured now,
to sashay in such displays.

I bet those were the days.

-Summer.

Cloudless blue sky and hours of pleasant sunshine,

I wish summer could last till the end of time.

It’s a holiday weekend, all of the ‘fellows’ have Monday off.
At lunch Wednesday, Lisa said, “We need a throw-down.”
So, we made some invites and started spreading word around.
“You know, we all work hard enough, we need to get down!”
We asked for RSVPs, and got 43, for the effort, a decent payoff.

My sister’s apartment has a balcony and plenty of space.
We spent Saturday shopping and rearranging the place.
Early Sunday, we hid all the breakables and decorated,
As people settled in, things took off - as we’d anticipated.

I was surprised when I saw Quinn come in
I quietly turned to Lisa, mouthing, “Who invited him?”
The blush on her face, gave her instantly away,
“We couldn’t NOT invite him, we see him every day.”

More people were arriving, laughing and smiling, the party was thriving.
Everyone seemed to bring something, a bottle of Canadian goose,
a bucket of KFC, another of Popeyes, some glowing aurora jungle juice,
taco dip and chips, a Boston Creme pie and a cake with purple icing.

When you feel right, you let the music ignite you,
the beat seems to drive you, the vibe helps excite you,
the bass starts to thump and, well, you’re only young once,
you forget all your cares, for a delirium that’s shared.

In this ocean of joy, I saw a sad and reserved boy.

It was Quinn, in the corner, slouching on the couch.
a model of insecurity, watching the party self consciously,
I looked at Lisa, rolled my eyes, and said, “Why ME?”

I maneuvered over and took Quinn gently by the shoulders,
“Come ON, Quinn, you’re among friends, so embrace the funk,
these GIRLS wanna dance, give ‘em a chance, you’re not a monk!”
I pulled him to his feet, and dragged him over to Monique.
“Quinn, Monique - Monique, Quinn - let the dancing begin!”

By the end of the night Quinn was doing all right.
He has a quirky, awkward style, reconciled by a nice smile,
he’d danced with every girl, leaving them a little beguiled.
“Do it Quin, DO IT!” A girl, at one point, had laughed.
“Oh,” he’d said, gyrating in his herky-jerkily away, “It’s being DONE!”

Who could have known our stuffy, Harvard Quinn could be fun?!

heavy air,
a body beside me,
it's face buried in a pillow, resting
the two of us like sprawled starfish
on a sea bed of blanket

here we lie, centered in our narrow room,
a room made bright by the single skylight above,
clouded  

the following forming the soundscape of this moment:
- Sam's breath, my breath
- a pair of bluebottles buzzing and bumping into the walls
- an itch every now and then of sunburned skin, a leg brushing itself against the sheets
- a distant Tristan singing songs to his daughter down in the kitchen

there is a bucket with sick in it
there is a ***** laundry pile
there is a red, sun cream stained bikini hanging on the door handle
there are two clean, white towels and
two holiday cameras: the first's film already finished, the second with a little yet to go

Maybe we'll go to the beach
Maybe we'll go to the town or discover
a new town or ride our bikes out again until we find somewhere just right

the day has so much promise and
I have so little I have to do
but lie here and be grateful for time

~
Bergamot morning

the astronauts are sleeping

and she dreams like a mannequin

ceiling stars abound

like hummingbirds in celestial flight

about the nectar of

young bodies, young machines

we drew a map together

from burst to bloom

from fever to neckline

from scale to mirror

pretty scar, a thing of awe

when the curious girl

realized she was under glass

raining in time lapse

she traversed me ad rem

with might and main

I didn't have the heart

to wake us from

her brainchild's motif
~

The wheel of fortune has spun our way,
we’re on Spring-break for 8 more days!

The transition to leisure was as smooth as oil,
without classes, he’s just a guy and I’m his girl.

For three weeks we’ll have had the suite to ourselves,
it has all the amenities, it’s like a hotel.

We’ve never been together, alone, for so long before,
it’s so deliciously heterodox, it’s like a reward.

Peter (my BF) observed, “This will be a reality check.”
Yeah, he’s a hopeless romantic.
“Sorry sir,” I said, “It's my policy not to cash reality checks.”

Oh yes, oh yes,  salams, hello, hi
Aha, oh yeah, oh my, oh my
My favorite dream places happen to be
coincidentally
ones that rhyme with the words
aye, aye, aye and bye, bye, bye
for I wish to fly
to divine Dubai
to showy Shanghai
to beautiful Brunei
and heavenly Hawaii
and last but not least
the land of the Thai

The only odd ones out in this rhyme scheme
of exotic favourite places of my dream
are touristy Turkey and Singapore
ah, I wrote this kinda' extempore.
So if I do go gallivanting
somewhat like Gulliver on his travels
these are the places I'd like to explore.

Ah, it's always great to travel
and geo atlas mysteries unravel
upon God's wide world to marvel

Going places to collect and bring back memories
A collection of curios and cherished souvenirs

As indeed whenever you bring back some exotica
you enhance your knowledge with those ephemera.

So guys I'd love to fly
to travel to Turkey and Thailand
Sojourn in Shanghai
depart for Dubai
holiday in hawaii
Board a flight to Brunei.
One has to try
to get into jetsetting style
act somewhat like the jet set
for frequent flyer mile.

This has been a poetic travelogue
for voyages are ever in vogue.

But whenever I can and if I have luck now
I know I could never tire of journeying
to Aligarh and Lucknow
For motherland India calls me like no other,
a place to hug my origins, beloved dad and mother.

Ah, only if there were no travel formalities
I could be sightseeing many more cities.
Without need of passports, ticket and visa
anyone could've travelled
to watch the Leaning tower of Pisa
or even the egyptian pyramids of Giza.

But for spiritual enlightenment and nourishment the mecca of thronging visitors flocking ,
I wish to frequently visit Mecca as a pilgrim,
It's the favourite sanctuary for every Muslim

So O' Tinkerbell, sprinkle me too with yer fairy pixie dust
so I too can fly, and satisfy, my spasmodic wanderlust

For all these years,
One lesson learnt:

The Line:
Pioned.
The ethereal days:
Forgotten.
The stones and the grass:
Pioned.
Every vision, henceforth,
A mark.

You are a venerable student of The Line,
Why not see it as Peter Paul Rubens saw it?
Why not see it as Osman saw it?
Why not see it as Rembrandt saw it?
Why not see it as old Blake saw it?
Why not see it as Sandro saw it?
Why not see it as Hermes Trismegistus saw it?
Why not see it as old Palmer saw it?
Why not see it as Marc Chagall saw it?

A vision of The Line,
As the old masters saw it.

Come,
Let us sit.

Let us burn firewood.

Let us practice The Line within chambers of the mind.

If you remain studious, deep into the night,
You shall hold the mark.
You shall part the waters.
You shall move between the swells.
You shall till the earth,
Striking iron against iron,
Creating new Lines!
And when you master the six realms of sight,
And wear the seven, sacred heads in the afterlife,
Remember Hermes Trismegistus
And those who stand at the centre of The Line.

Leeza (the 13 year old sister of my roommate Lisa) and I are in the building 220 lobby, heads-down on our phones, waiting for Lisa and Peter (my BF). The lobby is huge and deserted except for a lady concierge at the front desk, a security guard and the doorman - all far away from us. This is by way of explaining that our masks are off - mine hanging, useless, on my left ear.

When this unmasked guy, I was grazingly introduced to at last year’s 220-building Christmas party walks up to us and says, “Anais, Hi. You’re back!”

I flinched. I know a lot of people are over the whole mask thing and the covid thing - and have the temerity to risk it all, but I don’t - did I mention flu season or covid variations? Someone unmasked getting unexpectedly up in my personal space is jarring, rude, and on several levels dangerous and scary.

“Oh, hi,” I said. I vaguely recognized him, but I couldn’t remember his name. He’s one of those guys who’s cutely strange looking. He’s short (5’4”) (nothing wrong with that, short kings, you’re valid), his hair’s dark at the roots but blonde tipped (beach-hair?) and when he smiles, and he smiles a lot, his smile looks too big for his face. I remember he’d seemed socially awkward when we met, and Lisa had said his father is someone important.

“Yeah,” I said, with a shrug, “Holidays again.” I briefly bob up on my toes, to glance over Leeza’s head and to my relief, I see Lisa and Peter coming out of the elevator. I decide to mask up and seeing me do it, Leeza does as well.

“I’m sorry,” I said apologetically, “I remember you, but I can’t remember your NAME. I’m an idiot.” I give him my best, ditzy shrug.

He reintroduced himself, “Merritt,” he said, offering his hand and smiling again, still unmasked. As I shook his hand he twisted in Leeza’s direction and said, “Hi Leeza!” She gave him the smallest possible 13-year-old’s courtesy nod.

Peter and Lisa arrived, having masked up. “Merritt, hey!” Lisa said, greeting him warmly. “Have you got senioritis yet?” she asked, cheerfully. “Merritt’s graduating from Brown this year,” she announced, turning to include us all in the good news. “Public policy, ya?” She followed up.
“That’s it,” he confirmed, beaming.
“Congratulations!” I said, nodding.
“Way to go!” Peter added with a “yes” nod.
“Merritt, this is Peter,” Lisa said, taking charge. “He belongs to Anais.” she reported, as they shook hands and exchanged nods. “Merrit,” Lisa said, in a disappointed tone, “I hate to rush off, but we’re in a scramble for a dress fitting,” she lied. Lisa can lie like a politician.

And just like that, in something like 45 seconds she shook-off Merritt - who seems like a very sticky guy indeed - without resorting to mace or anything - Lisa’s got charm.

Thoughts about charm..
My grade, in physics 3 (an A-) was 2-one-hundredths from an A+. I almost certainly (like 85%) could have charmed the professor for that tiny bit. We’ve all seen it done - you put on a self-effacing smile and say, “I’m so close, is there something I can do for extra credit?” But I can’t DO it, physically, I can’t say the words and beg for grades. It’s like I can picture my mom watching me having to beg for something she earned, and I’d be mortified to even try. It’s my small disadvantage, a self-imposed handicap.

Besides, if I did betray my code, there’s the awful chance the professor might say no - and that would **** me.

Lisa, on the other hand, wouldn’t actually have to charm. She’d ask about her grade, periodt. The teacher, seeing there’s something he or she could do for this goddess - would just do it. With no asking involved.

Imagine you’re an airline agent and Beyonce´ stepped up to your station. She has a little problem you could effortlessly fix with a click of your mouse. Would you, do it? Hells-yes you would and before she even asked. “It’s already done,” you’d say - just to have Queen Bey smile at you.

The rest of us have to work at it (sigh) - and take our chances..