Reluctant Traveler - Poem by Oskar Hansen
Morning driving through the vast plateau of Spain, cowboys in their sheep skin coats
are ready to ride out to Inspect the heard, It is cold the horses are rearing to gallop.
On a hillock the outline of a big black bull, underneath is written “Sandman’s sherry.”
The sign is held by wires and looks like a malapropos in morning light. Cattle’s grazing
did they spend the night standing up resting, listening out for wolves or other
predatory animals? The driver tells us we are going to stop in a town too irrelevant to
remember. The breakfast is an insult I ask for fried eggs and bacon by the time they
are ready the coach is ready to leave. Hasty breakfast but I managed to have a pee.
A flask of rum and coke, I have made some notes, taken a few picture, I drink fall
asleep, when I wake up we are in France and a new morning has arrived. I have never
been to France before, only at airports passing trough, this is a dreary little border
town and it surprise me that their inhabitances have not fled. The café is lousy, stale
bread with jam. I get into an argument with the rude staff, my wife comes and saves
the day. I Paris we are met by a Jewish gentleman who wants me to read my poems,
In defense of Palestine, In Norwegian and I’m the only Scandinavian in the room. I do
the readings, hate Paris, and take the first bus back home to Portugal.
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Still I Rise
The Road Not Taken
If You Forget Me
Edgar Allan Poe
Stopping By Woods On A Snowy Evening
I Do Not Love You Except Because I Love You