The Pirates of Mental Space PDF Print E-mail

The Pirates of Mental Space
-Gabrielle Louise

I'm sunburned from Patagonian peaks,
from swimming in the lakes where the horses come to drink,
my eyes are itching from the dust and the weeds and the buzzing of the flies!
I've got bruises on my hips from sleeping on the ground,
and the water starts to shimmer when the half moon pops out
the natives run the rowboats, buses to the campgrounds and the parks
with their mouths they smile, but their eyes make nasty remarks.

Everyone stares at us, blond and sun-soaked,
marinated in American hope and naivety.

Oh the people here, they don't tell the truth,
they know all they're gonna see you is an afternoon,
they know these roads, you do not.
You're looking for a tall-tale and that's just what they've got.
The tourists take it home with their photographs,
they'll give a grand account to their grand-kids and everyone will laugh!

Oh how we stare at them, brown eyes and reckless hair,
the carmel tans and the callous hands of the working world.
and the great divide is the need to be alike
while all the magic of being alive is in the differences

We'll leave them here with the endless stars,
return to the "first world" of strip malls and sports bars
billboards on the highways, ad campaigns,
The pirates, pirates of my mental space!
Pirates, pirates of their sacred space!
Pirates! Pirates!