A Poem from Prague

In Prague I packed a bag
stayed in a hotel sleepless
after three nights I poured rubbing alcohol
on white rice in the bathroom sink
and set it ablaze. A rite of purification
that got me thrown out of the hotel.
I was tired of the people
so I propelled myself into spaces no bigger
than the back seat of a taxi car
stood in stunned silence when I saw
someone that looked just like you
praying in a narrow alley I donned
wool and thick gloom
sat cross-legged on the steps
leading into the vacuum of my moods. I promised
you poems, insights, photographs
of Kafka's house- imagine how I felt
when I saw the light gleaming
from my pillow just
before I fell asleep
it was the summer of '98
and there was panic everywhere
I had a fever but I was laughing
I didn't feel cursed yet, then.