her face in the mirror all mine not mine and there is rust washing to be done on old chains in the barren playlot
she the me locking unlocking six-paneled doors wood of ghetto apartments a gulag of memories jailed rape is not right not a right but we, me and she promise the no cry no more
come knocking, come knocking down the corridor and i hold she as me in our striped stained bed crying hush to those howling dogs of war
some times we chat all others, silent stand tall let gossip the pines in trade on winds bring on day carry our night bones given rain featherfall out of sight we gaze for winter waiting spears...
On my recent road trip to help my friend Tara with her move — flying out to Alaska followed by a long drive down the Alaskan Highway and then down to Iowa — one of the things I hoped I would see was some of the wildlife… even if only via the moving frame of the car window. I wasn’t sure what exactly I might see that would be different than what I might see within the boundaries of my own state, but I was hoping to see something different.
I am back home and I survived my 3500-mile road trip adventure. In fact this is my second day home, but I’ve been so exhausted that I haven’t been able to muster up the energy to write anything substantial. I didn’t even know how tired I was until I was about 90 miles away from home — that was when my brain gave my body permission to feel the fatigue of driving that distance in just over six days. And since (even today), I am drowsy and more interested in napping than doing nearly anything else.
It was an adventure, but if I were to do it again, I’d probably make far more stops to enjoy the scenery (at least in Alaska, Yukon and British Columbia). But we were trying to cover as many miles as possible so that we could get to our respective homes and settle back into life without have a household on a trailer for someone to muck about with in tow.
underwear sitting naked skin taut and all head weary in shivers i don’t want the long time i don’t want the rub sitting in wait for her ever i give myself to mud