We are halfway up the slope of
Mount Lawu, the roads are narrow and
twisty, eyes cling like gnats to the windows.
Smoky Java is spread out below,
patchwork of tobacco, tea, chili, pisang,
tea, tea, dry-season tropical drugs of choice.
It's funny, we do the same things
over and over-here is a kind of temple,
Candi Sukuh, perched at the tip of everything.
(
Read more... )