Friday, 26 March 2010

changu narayan

seven hours walking
fifth century temple
words fail me in the sense my vocabulary is not up to the job...
but then, who's is?
got lost on the wrong level of terrace and had a hairy moment or two dragging myself up the dusty slope
till a first-ever ride back on the top of a jampacked bus
after a good hour spent watching a man selling his very handsome cabbages
they looked so good everyone over thirty who passed just had to stop to talk to him about them
and he had some very happy customers amongst those women hauling baskets around on their back with the cotton strap over their forehead
those women who find every step painful so they grimace, and then naturally smile, and then grimace and smile and grimace and smile the whole bentbacked stagger
calf muscles as taut
as taut
as taut as the wires on the forth bridge
as pamela anderson's bra strap
as an apogee bungee

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