Deepness. Foam trips. Cairo. Notes from memory
Cairo airport lounge with big plastic plants and purple leather glow
Everything rounded — tables, lights, even the bathrooms
Perforated diner seats like a 1950s future
Massive stacks of receipts, subtle yawns diffusing like tea in hot water
You cannot buy real vibe
Energy passed through eye contact, slow and deliberate
Palm trees beyond two panes of glass, Air Cairo lifting off
Low ceiling like a tomb chamber
Rectangles and overlays, sharp geometry like hieroglyphs
Crawling through granite passages on hands and knees
Outer thigh burn from pyramids
Drawing a Santa Cruz wave in mummy dust
A UFO over a sarcophagus
Grave robbing with your eyes
Heart weighed against the feather
If it’s heavy, the crocodile eats it
If it’s light, you lift
Stay real or your heart gets heavy
Hustle and conscience in the same breath
Make your heart light as a feather
Arabic hieroglyphics as modern art before modern art
Smooth lines, bright colors, animals and dancers
A thousand dancers in one tomb
driver with a shrine of cash on the dash
Oh, it’s beautiful, he says, through dust and smog
Traffic flowing as one organism
Watermelon juice. Fresh bakeries. Golden coffee dispensers
Trash fires glowing sideways in the sun
Cats under plastic chairs with more dignity than people
Prayer rugs under palm trees while traffic roars
Motorbikes three deep with flowers and babies
Horse and carriage legal anywhere
The Nile carrying soil and trash and light
Mansions rising from irrigated fields
Streets widening from two lanes to five
Go when it’s time to go. Don’t stop. Just flow
Grilling corn brushed with feathers
Nicotine offered by a 16-year-old with braces
Arabic typewriter decoded under streetlights
Luxury is never seeing the waiter until you need him
The ultimate hustle: I don’t need anything
Coconut milk in shot glasses poured from a giant jug
Vodka on plastic tables under police with machine guns
Warm yogurt spice drink smoothing the tension
No-touch selfies under palm trees
Everybody has a table. Everybody works the place
Laughter is the real wealth
Hustle your way into the toilet
Warm water splashing from the flush mechanism
Hookah tips in the sink
Don’t go that way, they say
That’s exactly the way we’re going
Desert man under a TV, lion face calm
Non-city cool from elemental sand
A quiet hand gesture to the hookah
Yeah bro, its here
You are welcome
