Metro

stop on the way back to the temple of stinky tofu, this time following the path in the intended direction and as the temperature found the high twenties and humidity chambered sweat soaked under backpack and the sorrow of the missing rags and threads I call a hat beaded unannounced from brow: the mountain of the goddess of mercy across the river, view defaced by the defecation of towering rectangular architecture as a paddle steamer passed in mississippi mudflats strewn with mangroves and wild dogs in silhouette under shadows and cooling mud. Even in small circled meanders it's obviously such a beautiful place, ridiculous sequences of hills and rivers, enough to brighten the cynical eye with smiling intent as scents offer a melancholic salivation upon meatfree diet...