From the thumb upwards I am angled towards the wind. It is a head wind of great strength. But I am ready and able to bend into it. I am making progress. My optimism will carry me on. I intend to quench my thirst for life From the ever full glass of eternity. My share I take with a pinch Of a worm, squeezed lemon and salt. Forgive me, this is not Mexico, I forget myself. You must understand I have a backstory Of vast imaginings. I am though here By chance. It is natural Having lived this while To have gathered not only baggage, And momentum but also a degree of self cynicism. There are after all no limits to experiences.
The craft of survival is learned. Let no one convince you otherwise. I have lived a pigeons life, In Greece I traveled for a while In a horse. How the sound of hoof on cobble Rattled my drums. So having decided on No more of the equine mode, I vowed to travel to Athens Wearing skirts. Thus incognito I passed unnoticed by the Greeks. Today I venture To write a memoir. Tomorrow? Well let's just see. To beer continued... ©2019 Chris Thompson. "lookout" is a subset series