bikeride

mama said there'd be days
i don't think any mother ever could have warned us about this.

wednesday, august 30th

Over a thousand feet in the alpine, on a bright sunny day,
an energetic group of dreamers had the most spectacular snowball fight of their
short lives. "I looked into his eyes and I saw myself."
The evening unfolded under an ever-changing sky. From the clearest
glass of azure, poised to crack at any minute, to rosy glowing reflections
on the hillside, melted into vivid oranges which slowly gave way to the deep
purples and blues of midnight. All the while this palette transformed for us,
we watched as holes of light punched through the wall of sky -
constellations we couldn't see, planets we couldn't name, was it a meteor or a shooting star?
Perhaps even a comet! Screaming for everyone to wake, they had just
for the first time beheld the Aurora Borealis and someone even grumbled,
"be quiet." How is one expected to remain calm when witnessing one of the
great mysterious Beauties of Nature?

"life is affliction"

He implored me,
"You should use a plate."
To which I replied,
"why?"
I don't think he heard me, though.

absolutely NO

no soup, no pickles
no breakfast for lunch!
don't you dare order what you want
just pay us a king's ransom and maybe the cook might make something
if they feel like it.

float coats///poke boats

wet cold and wind and rain
wade in the water
diggin out on the 'keg
wade in the water children
pray for an unseen prey
god's gonna trouble the water

A Collection of Alaskan Ramblings

monday, june 13th
a thin layer of dirt on everything.

***

an evening in moose pass
"there's nothing left in
that pantry, 'cept an
empty bottle o' whiskey"
zip dee doo on the kazoo
shit.
bells... bicycle bells
ba-ringgg

***

I'll never leave your pizza burnin'
Walk for miles, my stomach's hurtin'
All I want is for you to make food for me

***

7/4
waves in the pavement and wild flowers
van doors swingin' open; no one lives a life quite like ours

***

after a grandslam and an ol' rasputin
you look upon these words:
"You are marvelous - the gods wait to
Delight in you." - Bukowski

distress over a nest

two shining stones of obsidian
jump out from a bed of straw
a fuzzy brown streak leaves a
tiny nest behind - oh, no
oh no, no, no
three tiny, warm bodies
blinded by birth
climbing and chirping into the dark
that is their tiny little lives
all too soon it ends, food for hens
and I wish I never found them

october!

love the sweet smell of wood chips and horse shit