Ochate And the curse of the prison

 The wide drive way gives space for a dead community
A place that once thrived
Now it is abandoned
Long practical buildings

The mountain cloud drift slows for dark afternoons
The people left after digging up a subterrenean prison
A structure that looks like the spine and ribcage of a dinosaur
The curious visitors look down from a safe balcony attached to the building

After the uncovering apparently there was a haunting and some form of curse
So the people living there moved to Vitoria Gasteiz 
They were not recieved well the story of the lazaretto being well told there
Understood as the legacy of misfortune

Those long sinister ribcage like prisons were not really prisons
But places to put people infected with smallpox
There they would be kept until they expired
A darkness yet exists there behind a secret door

Swimming pool precarious

 The shack wasn't there when I got back
Just a pool deep enough to drown me
But I lay there comfortably afloat
Late morning sun very scalding
Deep blue sky full of the heat of the day

The water reflects the sun
Surface is spotted with blinding brilliance
The upon the wall to the street
An electric distribution box

Thousands of wires and plugs
Zig zaggin out of one another
So close to the water of the pool
One tiny arc of electricity I would be no more

My body slowly glides toward the box
Then backward again toward post
The cables above connecting the lane
There was a spark coming from a loose plug

The forfeiture of dignity

 Ever had to eat a crustacean infront of beauty
Beauty with eyes that could see through
Mock and conspire on a grand platform
Where one would be exposed to elaborate ridicule

where convention and social grace raised eyebrows in contempt

The feast inside the condo events center was no different
Hunger conquered dignity
Longing for the flavor won over decorum
The tongue and the stomach having their way

Therefore I am judged breaching this mos civilis

The mind and it's instinctive craving moved teeth
and serpentine tongue into devouring
The bottomless bowl
The absurdity of over eating here in this large room

Burnt up by derision blemishing the crux of a well shaped urbanitas

The feast was to be looked at and not touched
No matter the impulse or temptation
And here I am, all hands and tongues getting stuck in
The mouth just flesh wall inside hell itself

What a crude spectacle for these particular prestigious observers

Back outta town

 I knew I'd have to make my way back
sky grey blue air cool semi thick
People wandering 
Roadworks never never finished

I look of a shortcut 
Where I might find retrace my steps
To the shack up the way
Sometimes through crowds

Pushing uncomfortably through them
Praying for enough space to get back unscathed
Sun would be up soon frying edges and riff raff
Eyes search for shortcuts

I enter a church half full of it's ministry
some of them move out of the side exit
To let me walk through
Achieving my shortcut

The feeling of progress
A beautiful lie
One that would lull me to sleep
If I ever actually found my way back to the shack

Down into town

 I went down into town
With two others
The helped me all the way
Without asking so much as a thank you

I'm talking about my left leg and my right one
Navigating the pavement
Simple things that my mind could move
I was often accused of being simple

And yet I was perhaps the most complex
Which gave the outward illusion of simplicity
I went down into town on two legs
The strangeness of a biped

The curves of the pavement sidewalk
My own adjustments
Manifesting into flesh and bone
Just to carry me along

Soft food and comradery

Freckles and fraternity
Their fun mix of people
Their local hang out a gallery
The air together is sweet

Friendship is evidenced through feasts and winks
Old stories that have the lot in stitches
Their freckles are now turning to wrinkles
Jovial conversation and livers struggled through beer 

Words words here in speech bubbles
Pouring out of the mouth in gushes
The food going against the flow
The mouths fight for words, chews and swallows

They saw each other as kin
Brothers through thick and thin
Though it was never really tested
No steel to it no blood invested

Just a shout

 All we have is a shout in the wind
A temporary expression
Half an accident, half an impulse
Half a second episode
of a novella our descendents once started

In that short time will we paint reality
With our myriad emotions
Invisible art on the air
Colors of ourselves we can not see
A shout it is

Until we are hoarse in that moment
In space where the lack of oxygen robs our volume
The ability to continue our echoing utterance
There is only silence and starlight
The shout is over

Emptiness welcomes
Transformation flows out here
For there is no purpose in the vacuity
Amelioration comes on as certain as new life
Beyond the dead shouts