Indian summer

The Indian summer
Feels like the beginning of summer
To those
Living in the Arctic Circle
Of yesterday's thoughts.

These thoughts
Float through the ancient sea
To the strange Nice
Were the journeys through
Cote d'Azur begin.

Most thoughts are frozen
At the top of the Cactus Garden in Ez
Where the mouth is full of Rioja and gnocchi
And where the feet hurt
From spiraling around
The majestic Barcelona.

As the airplane clouds over
The Indian summer feels like
The beginning of summer,
Yet we know that
The warmth will fade
Like a memory of a place
We have never been to.

On the plane Geneva - New York

I am stuck in an empty bottle of wine
Yet the life outside seems perfectly green
I am running
I am spinning
I am screaming
I am crying
Dear Devil,
Please let me out
Or take me in

I am stuck in an empty bottle of wine
Yet the sky above looks perfectly blue
I re-read all my books
I re-thought all my thoughts
100 digits of Pi
I computed last night
Dear Devil,
Please let me out
Or take me in

I am stuck in an empty bottle of wine
Yet the bottom below looks perfectly black
I have made up my mind
I am leaving behind
This bottle of wine
As soon as I think of escape
Dear Devil,
Please let me out
Or take me in