Lion Face Calm / notes from Cairo

Deepness. Foam trips. Cairo. Notes from memoryCairo airport lounge with big plastic plants and purple leather glowEverything rounded — tables, lights, even the bathroomsPerforated diner seats like a 1950s futureMassive stacks of receipts, subtle yawns diffusing like tea in hot waterYou cannot buy real vibeEnergy passed through eye contact, slow and deliberatePalm trees beyond two panes of glass, Air Cairo lifting offLow ceiling like a tomb chamberRectangles and overlays, sharp geometry like hieroglyphsCrawling through granite passages on hands and kneesOuter thigh burn from pyramidsDrawing a Santa Cruz wave in mummy dustA UFO over a sarcophagusGrave robbing with your eyesHeart weighed against the featherIf it’s heavy, the crocodile eats itIf it’s light, you liftStay real or your heart gets heavyHustle and conscience in the same breathMake your heart light as a featherArabic hieroglyphics as modern art before modern artSmooth lines, bright colors, animals and dancersA thousand dancers in one tombdriver with a shrine of cash on the dashOh, it’s beautiful, he says, through dust and smogTraffic flowing as one organismWatermelon juice. Fresh bakeries. Golden coffee dispensersTrash fires glowing sideways in the sunCats under plastic chairs with more dignity than peoplePrayer rugs under palm trees while traffic roarsMotorbikes three deep with flowers and babiesHorse and carriage legal anywhereThe Nile carrying soil and trash and lightMansions rising from irrigated fieldsStreets widening from two lanes to fiveGo when it’s time to go. Don’t stop. Just flowGrilling corn brushed with feathersNicotine offered by a 16-year-old with bracesArabic typewriter decoded under streetlightsLuxury is never seeing the waiter until you need himThe ultimate hustle: I don’t need anythingCoconut milk in shot glasses poured from a giant jugVodka on plastic tables under police with machine gunsWarm yogurt spice drink smoothing the tensionNo-touch selfies under palm treesEverybody has a table. Everybody works the placeLaughter is the real wealthHustle your way into the toiletWarm water splashing from the flush mechanismHookah tips in the sinkDon’t go that way, they sayThat’s exactly the way we’re goingDesert man under a TV, lion face calmNon-city cool from elemental sandA quiet hand gesture to the hookahYeah bro, its here You are welcome