Cairo, by John Singer Sargent
If you move a chair,
the Pharaoh's curse may turn out
to be a fact.
So here's this guide,
on how to ride or hide, and avoid having
your atoms split at the speed of light.
Don't ask Nile dwellers if aliens visited
the earth, if Cleopatra was Egyptian enough,
don't tell Socrates you're a transgressor of time,
he'd just turn it into a quest for 'why?',
though he may tell you the true meaning of life.
You can talk about garlic, as if it's some sentinel,
just don't mention the germ theory,
those leeches might not be pleased,
Sake's your ally, unless you challenge a samurai,
turning your spoon into a sword,
well—that would need a good health insurance plan.
Carry a sketchbook—Italy would get you drunk,
appreciate art, especially from Michelangelo: the punk,
but avoid mentioning that Earth revolves around the sun,
you don't want to be on house arrest before 1610.
Afternoon teas are your best friends,
for pinkies up, check those calendars,
ask Queen Victoria if she has a pocket watch,
though she wouldn't find that amusing.
Praise the gladiators, but skip the Roman fall.
Learn to play poker, jazz is the new craze and carry cowboy gear.
Pro tip: tell Van Gogh he was loved.
We never travel to the future, now that's a solid rule,
Never ever meet your grandparents,
bad idea alert, I repeat, bad idea alert.
October 9, 2024
If I could feel sorrow // for a thing entire of itself, // it would be St. Helena Island.
Improvisations - little more than // preludes as inclined by other options // and expression as to what will happen