ducklings
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Author Archives: loujen haxm'Yor
San Diego ComicCon 2019
Artists, movie & tv actors’ panels, hundreds of vendors, crowds jamming the convention center & adjacent participating hotels & nearby closed-off- streets-to-car-traffic, restaurants & local hotels enjoying their busiest week of the year, and a time when even adults can let loose with their diversity of costumes.
For my wife and I, it started with early a.m. before Preview Night. We needed to set up our panels for the Art Show at the Hyatt near Seaport Village—which was really cool, because it was open to the general public. Also, because we had tickets for Preview Night, we lucky ones got a head start on beating the really big crowds and receiving extra freebees—which might include anything from special toys & paraphernalia, books & comics & posters, art prints, large tote bags, program booklets for the upcoming week’s events, and at least a general feel for the exhibit floor’s layout before the next crowd-filled days.
Fortunately, our staycation at our hotel provided attendees with a free shuttle in order to avoid the downtown herd of cars. Only the shuttles and permit vehicles were allowed on that stretch of the convention center.
Now that my feet are at rest, I’d like to share with you some pics of our experience—a few of them described; the rest for your visual enjoyment. Peace.
signing spat
my stupid comment
silent but tasteless
tick’d her off
her palms and finger’s
kung fu flyers
flailing from her body
hitting me
hurting me
without touching me
later
my penitence
my standing
on a breath of bend’d knee
flutter’d before her eyes
till we both surrender’d
embrac’d
and cultivat’d smiles
on deaf hands
tree
time’s been good to me
my hide
though bronz’d
by the seasons
manicur’d
be crawlers and flyers
and autographers
still holds fast on firm feet
generations
of admirers
of passing glances
have I outliv’d
and might someday
my leaves never reawaken
your memories
your snapshots
be bless’d
for making me immortal
rest stop
sharing big bird rock
with a smaller bird whose wings
must flap thrice as hard
spacewaves: Piccadilly Circus
in the far tomorrow
eyes within Magellanic Clouds
might detect a signal
vivid voices
among the stars
on golden record
an old crossroads
of me— Westminister
and infer it as noise
and tho’ my rock
in Milky Way
might be no more
yet tarries my name
togetherness
hands
eyes
thoughts
in courtship
sensing
no one
nothing
nowhere but here
now this is dancing
loujen haxm'Yor 