A Tazh Mahaal Sort Of Feeling

It’s a Tazh Mahaal sort of feeling
of sending postcards home
of haggling for articles of faith
of dancing in Amazonian rain forests
of trickling down from
user-friendly rock faces
somewhere in the Andes
of living with winged low-life
in some equatorial landmass, somewhere
of emailing memories
through Dell and Apple notebooks
concealed from hungry native eyes
in sturdy Swiss-made backpacks.

It’s a Tazh Mahaal sort of feeling
that comes from surfing
the information highway
of mouse-mounted windows
of easy, downloadable wisdom
and high resolution porn
of hits and eyeballs
of a smart, impersonal type face
somewhere in the centre of nowhere
somewhere between the longitudes
of freedom and free-trade
coloured dollar green and white
and entered through
a plastic keypad.

It's a Tazh Mahaal sort of feeling
of mapping the world
on glossy travel books.
A feeling of marble strength
and stamina for bus-rides
and cashing travellers checks,
making pictures and awesome
observations about what a
colossal bore this life
would have been
without this feeling.