let's go
Let’s Go
by travis catsull
Let’s stroll the sleepy streets
of Playa del Carmen
where the sand spills
from blanket shops
Let’s sleep in the queer hotels
of Bangkok
where the beer is full
of formaldehyde
and butterfly girls
wink at white boys
Let’s drive
a stripped down VW
to Belize
and work great gardens
in the half jungles
of San Ignacio
Let’s shave our heads
and chant Sanskrit mantras
with the monks of Bavaria
as they fan Prabhupada
with peacock feathers
Let’s sit on the dock
behind a Bellingham fish factory
talking with bearded hobos
who have only bread
for lunch
Let’s coast down the highway
along the Columbia River
in a van that hasn’t enough fuel
to make it otherwise
Let’s hide our food
from gypsies
as they scavenge through
the rotting castles
of Czech Republic
Let’s stop in Vegas
and drink all nite
on a handful of nickels
only to sleep in the lot
of a gift store
Let’s paddle a canoe
through the canals of Delft
waving to kids
on the steps
to faded houseboats
Let’s search out smoke clubs
in Vancouver
become members
and talk hockey
with strangers
who mock us
Let’s bet our t-shirts
against camel hide sandals
at boxing matches
in the Marrakech square
Let’s gaze
at the 100 ft. Christmas tree
built on grog
each year in the plaza
of North Dortmund
Let’s catch mangos
from howler monkeys
moving miles and miles
along the beach
of Costa Rica
without touching
the ground
Let’s smoke on the deck
of the slow, white ferry
crossing back and forth
from England to France
Let’s wander through
empty Osaka airports
while the sun sets
on the runway
and trash water
Let’s watch it rain
from Glasgow hostels
where bees are sleeping
in the thick marmalade
of morning
Let’s play whiffle-ball
Let’s drive to the sea
Let’s trigger horses
Let’s break into winter homes
Let’s hitch to Dallas
Let’s sleep in a field
Let’s throw punches
Let’s do anything
except go back home
-From the upcoming book, “In the Year of the Girl”
Let’s go to Michigan, Battlecreek and get us some pop-tarts so we can eat while Jack Kevorkian helps us kill ourselves.
I’d throw punches with you anytime.
Thanks Misener. I don’t make it Battlecreek that often. If yr ever in Austin, the punch is on me. Will be in NY next week though. This sorta sets the stage of my latest book, that I wrote 5 years ago and I’ll slowly be promoting it. For those of us out there watching. It can take that long to find the right publisher.
Test, test. 1, 3.
You called me Misener. Sir- I am flattered.
Hey, I was born and grew up in a town ten miles east of Battle Creek. There’s a ghetto there that smells like fruit loops. No joke.
yeah, let’s live
let’s walk
the one and half
tangled miles
to Chichen Itza
from Piste and marvel
at the magnificent
mounds of trash
beside the trash cans
Let’s bar-hop
in San Francisco
ditching Misener
and Halifax
at the gay-bar
laughing like hell
as we enter into
all-nude BYOB’s…
…enjoyed the read and look forward to the book, sir.
Let me know when your book comes out! This is great.
Hey, I’m cool with gay bars, married to a woman though I may be. But maybe this time, Quasi, I’d like to tag along to wherever you are going.
By the way, Travis, loved the work. I mean, really good. Great flow.
Let’s go
to Travis’ crib
and roll trees
while Quasi drinks soda
outside the window