Write Abroad in the High Himalaya, 2007

by Jen, Ben, Ellie, Jamie, Kate, Bill, Linnea, Sara, Lauren, Molly and Pam

A truck passes me, squeaky-loud like a kicked dog
Urine spreading under every foot like liquid democracy
Puzzles of lepers missing pieces
My feet are a boil of itchy poison
A milion particles of a million people blowing everywhere
People of dust in mountains of peace
and the scent of open sewers follow from Agra to Dharamsala
like a blooming fever
Her young malnurished hair spotted copper like the orange-leafed Goldmore
tree
Roads, in every place, confused as to where they are going
Your heart is a fist of cows and garbage, love at first light, a dismal sun
Brahma bulls doze garbage, vehement and greedy as multinational CEOs
Every request agreed to, and so often, never comes true
Gods of a sort, neglected, worshipped by congregations of flies & mosquitoes
and every delay met with a friendly sharptoothed ju leh!
Confused, yet directed, a place of patterned order out of colored chaos
Fork-tailed kites survey their kingdom of taxis and buses farting
The Roof of the World & a shattered basement flooded with prayer
Circus colors among the backbone of half-erected visions
Ladakhi birds whistle out of univson like the conversation of horns in New
Delhi
Fuzzy puppies in the streets "like a Rez dog: if you pet it, it's yours,"
Linnea says
Solitary broken smiled woman circling prayerflags like trapped cars on a
Delhi round-about
Pink plastic bag tied with scavenged string catching the hopes of a
desperate child
Flirting with boys, then a leper pops into view
The fizz looks like rainbow bubbles overflowing my heart
My stomach tries to escape through my mouth
as I put the sour yogurt on my tongue