I remember getting out of the van, seeing the Red Fort over there, across that muddy moat with the little trickle of muddy water meandering in the muddy streambed. The Red Fort looked like some sandcastle that thousands of little sunbathers, sometime, way back in the long dream of this timeless land, had dug out of the river basin, with thousands of little sand shovels and sand pails. And time and the sun had hardened it, compacted it, made it dense and strong.

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Esau held onto the guardrail. Leaned out into empty space. The frozen lake beneath him. How far down?
The ice made his fingers slip. He leaned out further.
How far?
Far enough. […]

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The quadrennial quandary,
choosing between
the lesser of two lechers
as they bisect bilateral boundaries,
splitting atoms and Adams,
exporting Middle America
in the making of little Americas. […]

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Lies, Deceit, Shame in defeat
Trading lives for moments of glory
One by one the morals diminish
Eating themselves alive
Intimidated by the impending doom.
The human race is left with
Only pieces of its broken word and
The horrors that penetrated the useless defenses
Because nobody was valiant enough to
Believe in the darkness, in the cold […]

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Once a week, Quinn walks up the hill to visit Arbelia. He brings her chocolate bars and inquiries. Quinn is 25 years old. Born in a big room in a small town, brought round the states, ‘sbeen soaking it up and wringing it out. Arbelia is 80 years old. A poet, shaman, songwriter, biker, gardener, mother and grandmother, she has been incarcerated for 25 years. Quinn has been learning to sail. Arbelia has been painting landscapes.

It has occurred to me that I might be able to get in there as an outsider and unify and belong but to not stop belonging to anything, everything and nothing.

They were introduced by a mutual friend and have been visiting for a year and a half or so. They have created a cushion of mutual respect. A true place to start to speak from. They’ve been calling it traveling. With work and play and wordplay long the way. So once a week, Quinn heads down to the prison for a brief and precious visitation and he and Arbelia hit the road together.

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