From atop Nounou Mountain looking down on Wailua

Sunrise over Kapa'a Town

Toilet Revolution

Paralysis

Na Pali

Bamboo Tattoo

Kauai Organic Farms

I started working at an organic ginger farm on Monday. It is tough manual labor but I am enjoying it so far. I get to work outside all day with a beautiful ocean view. The people I work with are mostly Thai and are some of the kindest people I have meet. Most of the workers do not speak much English so we speak slowly and use a lot of hand gestures. Before people could speak they must have used hand gestures. A lot of the day is spent playing charades.

At lunch there is a communal meal, everyone brings a dish and shares. They have invited me to eat with them and enjoy as much food as I wish. There are bamboo pots full of sticky rice to complement a variety of spicy dishes. I try to eat as much food as I can and my stomach usually ends up regretting it by the end of the day.

Nun, the only worker that speaks a little English talks to me most of the day; teaching me how to speak Thai and about their culture and telling me about her farm in Washington. She has already invited me to come visit her and her husbands farm in Washington, where they live. They have 10,000 acres of apple and cherry trees along with a wide selection of berries. Although we have only just met I know that Nun is sincere in her wanting me to come visit. She explains in broken English the differences of American and Thai culture and it embarrasses me a bit. I wish I had what they have; the community, the closeness.

vividness

She calls me, comes to me in flashing moments before sleep.

Fluorescent mountains pound and pulse under closed eyelids.

Torches burn bright fighting off the night.

Ancient battlefields are now low income housing developments.

Ghosts of warriors wander the neighborhood,

teasing the dogs, the only ones left who will listen.

I try to hear their lessons but they don't bother wasting their time.

They know a hallow ghosts like me cannot hear or see, taste or touch, they can only think.

Frogger

Discovery

Anarchist pigs living in the jungles of night,

celebrating the wilderness of the soul,

ethers of ecstasy,

supernatural silence of

starry nights and

isolation.

Colonial chickens parading domination and servitude,

laying breakfast babies,

hatching loveless scientists,

droning doomsday,

epiphany of egos and

epitaphs.