Pistachio Ice Cream

How is it that in Chiengmai they ponder
the touch of sunlight on durian
as hungry jets swell with fuel
Peer over life's cliff and hear the engines sputter
daylight daylight......before they catch
to exhale the present
In a ship about to cast off the captain holds
an embossed ticket in his hand
knowing the farthest shore needs no visa
Think about this in Tarlac and Kwangju
where only the moon is familiar
and the languages are whispering leaves
Imagined ports of call disappear around every
next corner before day's last green flash
lulls a body off to breathe
in latitude...............out longitude
Pray in Kabul where the oranges are blood red
and vendors sell pistachio ice cream
in an April just this side of frost
Float through Bangkok's market past
a man named Samsong who sells
three mangoes for two baht
Wrinkled letters await
in Lashio and Santa Cruz de Tenerife
entreat all to reconsider
good-bye...............good-bye
Grasp time before it all ends with a final toast
.and your own name sounds strange
.even foreign