Dislocation
By Simon Constam
I envy those who envy me for traveling.
Sometimes I sit on a foreign street in a busy cafe,
imagining you wishing you were here,
feeling for the first time the thrilling flush
of wanting to be elsewhere,
the frisson of happiness that wishes bring.
And so I sit quietly knowing that now
it’s time to figure out just what it is
I meant to do here.
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I had piles of things to get done on Tuesday, some of which were trivial and got done, some of which were pretty important and did not get done, but it's all going to be fine at least for a week. It was quite warm and the cicadas were quite loud, phaser fire outside the house all day, a nice day to walk and to run into neighbors and their kids now that we can talk about the cicada invasion instead of the virus.
I watched Voyager's excellent "Dreadnought" with my Trekkie friend group, then we watched Pirates of the Caribbean: Dead Men Tell No Tales, which isn't as good as the first three but is a lot better than the fourth -- I love Carina and I really love the cameos even though I don't buy for a second one person's supposed long-term fate. From Lewis Ginter Botanical Garden on Saturday, late spring flowers:
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