memento

the clarity of diamonds, oceans untold,
lurks under the glass and behind the frame of your favourite picture.
photographer's remorse sets in,
drunk amongst a black and white collection of stills,
darkroom fingerprints,
and perfectly exposed shots.
a thousand words gush forth, oxidizing in the chemical air and withering away forever,
proving once more that
nothing stays real for more than a second.

advice for the discerning traveller.

pack light.

wear comfortable shoes.

keep your passport and money in a safe place.

avoid travelling with sickly-looking individuals.

beware of incoherent strangers.

generate a possible escape route at every new destination.

remember! encounters are rare, but they do happen.

should you or a loved one become infected, contact the local authorities immediately.

due to recent administration, it should be known that the term 'zombie' is politically incorrect.

henceforth, the undead shall be collectively known as 'steve'.

steve will not die without a well-administered headshot. bring a collapsable baseball bat everywhere you go.

should you become 'steve'd', please be sure to eat your children immediately.

remember, their is a high risk of infection when traveling abroad! protect yourself.
Stay alert! arrive alive! beware of steve!

staycation.

the hotel hallway yawns on
for miles,
caressing the dingy terra cotta complexion of the
poc
kmar
ke
d
stucco walls.

there are no doors, no refuge to be found in
withered saltine matresses
or minifridges
or pay-per-view pornography.

you are deserted, an island lost in translation,
adrift in a sea of royal blue high-traffic carpet tile.

a most fitting purgatory.