"Our common cause
Drink liquid clock
Till I see God
Crystal display I can't turn off"
Hey Vince or Eric . . . I want my copy of this back . . . you know.
Sunday, June 22, 2008
(circa "YOU'RE INVITED! My China Vacation Spring 2008" style)
- The train whistle sounded just like the stereotypical Indian (aka. Native American) war cry.
- beekeepers working on the side of the road
- looking through to the light between rows and rows of skinny trees tightly packed together
- the paper parasols in the street vendor's booths- stacks and stacks of thin multi-colored butterflies.
- mom and dad under the lover's tree in the garden of the Forbidden City
- all the red Tiananmen Square
- picking up pebbles for Vince
- The beggar who applauded us when we came out of the Forbidden City, smiling large toothless smiles because he enjoyed that bottle of water.
- Hong Kong. Period. The End.
- purplish pink leaves in amongst the green green green trees
- fog (ohhhh the mysterious fog)
- billions of bicycles, falling apart, tied to trees any other stationary object (don't stand still too long in Bejing
- the British boys (Bonnie didn't think so. Humph) who hiked the Great Wall next to, behind, in front of us
- finishing Leaves of Grass while in another country (nothing like sensual American literature to stir that patriotic lust for freedom)
- the mix of French and Chinese culture at the last restaurant in Guangzhou that tried to poison me