I am in myrtle beach,
happily sitting in an empty boardwalk coffee shop
with a view of the ocean a burnt out motel
and two forsaken put-put courses.
The five hour drive from savannah to asheville
has become a 14 hour greyhound trip that follows
the south carolina coast until the walls are covered
with sand dollars, star fish and mona lisa posters.
I'll be home for christmas.
ths time, not only in my mind.
in less than three weeks time,
I'll be bag-in-hand at the Basel
airport, 20 minutes away.
I'll be in the season's finest,
double-fisting the chirstmas
opiates of snow and marzipan.
but this morning i dressed down.