Japan's Kamakura
A body apologizes for breathing
air close to me. We're not
friends. Difference is arms length
at best. Lunch's pickled garlic
cloves are superb. Have to
hand it to those. Many are
purplish in color. Continue breathing
at the station. In the same discretion
a pinkish tram clumps up. A Hello
Kitty rail decorum. This kind
of concern. The platform crowds
mimic Misuko Jizo dolls rowed
as aborted souls, out by sacred
caves, earlier on. Give up
last of my change to the first
beer of day. Is there difference? Then
on to catch tram to then the
dangling Shonan monorail. What a
feet. One's on ground, one's suspended
above it, the difference is air. Still
breathing out garlic. Am sorry
I couldn't apologize, but don't
know Japanese. Solely English by a nose.
Tonight's hostel comes replete with
sheets and a German. She
downs wine, chats up dead pets. Poor
things. Almost buy a figurine
go for camera battery instead. Can
steal souls easier that way. Goodbye
kiddies, my tram is here
Meow to that.

                 *

New Zealand's Rotorua
Wafting sulpher lands uppercuts on
my schnozz. Razor haired punks shoot straight
pool on tables off-loaded from
a lorry. I walk amid the same
sloping lawn as they and a gypsy
fair held up another weekend. Buy ice
cream and sell the final three smokes
to lungs. What a deal. If in
need of boxes of wrenches, here's
your place. If yard gnomes, other worries
pend. Iffy and cloudy outside. In-
side, I don't enjoy the shoe selection
chosen for this strolling outfit. Cone
tip drops cream into a bin
of buttons. Nobody notices anything. Leave
after complex combination of shots are
made by the bunch's only girl. Surprising
all, bless her. There's your wrench.
Go and arm myself with better foot-
ware. See her vending rides on a wee
ferris wheel later on. Fastens in tots
real good. That hair fakes colours
in my ice cream. Box off designs
shaping up for another round of
sherbet, window shopping or defenestration.
Sales, scoops and billiard balls carom
like children in or out of rides.
Am smelling banks of air pockets. Maybe
hairspray? Lose my voice in a pocket
toss and suffer encumbrances of the puny.