I went on a cruise in midst of the last time the world turned upside down (talking about myself again…) This time, Twas three weeks before the young lass realized, ‘twad been three weeks since moving in to her new ship, not since she’d spent a night sitting at home. Where had this time gone?
Another dime time 24 hours passed, and the young lass arose at 5 am to leave for New York. She was not packed. Some mysterious gremlin inside her squealed Nooo, you can’t go. Alas, she lifted her hands up to the peach colored dawn, what the dang heck happened this month?
Jun. Jun was a cruise of life. Home is where the ship sleeps and every day wakes up at a new island. Souvenier central, mostly awful but sincere and charming audio recordings of natives collected in bands, to each its own tongue and beat.
Jun began one day. It was Jun. Said lassie, let’s call her Lass, boarded an orange ship haunted by a skateboard legend, beginning a journey which would take her through the month and then some. Many bands and many moons, or at least one moon that changed shape…Let’s revisit it on a cruise.
Busdriver. The prince.
TRS 80.
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