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 |   Enga mellom fjella: where from across the meadow, poems sing from mountains and molehills. |
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Enga mellom Fjella  Sentinel Marked as if you own me I bow before the Bitterroots and just like you my rocky soil, my withered grass lays prey to the empty sky. © Kåre Enga 2007 "Sentinel"   Reader's Choice of Poems: "'heart's home'" "Glice" "A radiant moon has set" "For Jeanette ... when she grows old" "Mauve Mavis" Reader's Choice of blog entries from my old blog "L'aura del Campo" :"Death of Jeannie New Moon" "Doing and don'ting. A scene in 2nd person." "When is it proper to tell someone you love them?" "Tupac and more poetry" "Czernina (Dirk's-blood-soup?) and Murv Jacob's mural" FACES     PLACES            Kåre  Enga~ until everything was rainbow, rainbow, rainbow! And I let the fish go. ~ Elizabeth Bishop The Fish |
| "You can see your breath hanging in the air, see homeless people, but you just don't care. A sea of fake smiles in which to gladly drown. Welcome to Paradise, keep drinking, don't frown." But Paradise had a price and he was being priced out of town. Sunny looked around. Bozeman wasn't the same. The booze scene had gotten old and the snow-bunnies younger. He was still good looking but 20 years had taken it's toll. And now with a broken leg? At least it wasn't his leg that others found desirable. He'd come to MSU for a degree and to ski. By now he was more American than Thai. Was it time to leave this crapsack town? He'd received a plea to help with his grandfather. At age 94 it was obvious that he wouldn't live forever in spite of his daily bike-ride and rice-and-spice diet. Arthit (อาทิตย์1). Sunny said his Thai name out-loud. He'd have to get used to it. His older brother would pick him up. His old room would be ready. Anong (อนงค์2)? They'd kept in touch but Anong had a new boyfriend. Number? Sunny himself didn't do relationships that lasted over three days. Like fish... Montanans didn't believe in fish or rice or anything with spice. His grandpa's diet would kill them. 20 years of bleached wheat bread, dead bird, and bland overcooked broccoli? He could do better. The thought of deep fried squid-on-a-stick finally brought a smile to his face. Anong-the-once-beautiful? That too. He'd sell what he could. He'd travel light. It would be a one-way ticket to no-snow-never-again in the Land of Smiles. His parents wanted him to settle-in and settle-down. Maybe Anong would be available again by the time he arrived. Footnotes |
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