January 23, 2012
i need some desert in my cheekbones
some searing hot light that pierces me
some gritty dirt and stone under my feet
i need some hard edges that cut the sky
some lines that break the landscape
some bleakness that shouts out to me
“you don’t belong here so come on in
and walk around and make yourself
at home, intrepid stranger of recent times”
December 4, 2011
April 30, 2011
And the royalty were blissed out and the certifcate’d birthers had a setback only to be redeemed by Mitch’s Hoosierites planning a better parenthood. Wars waged on and new ones began. The stormy skies turned sunny and blue and the knobby tires met paved tar only to be pushed back by the gatehouse keeper wanting two bucks for my passage to the lands where the bluecoats slaughtered the feathered headdress wearers.
Later on, my head began to clear in thought of the words of Wendell Berry:
For the Future
Planting trees early in spring we make a place for birds to sing in time to come. How do we know? They are singing here now. There is no other guarantee that singing will ever be.
April 14, 2011
man, those howlers were barking up a storm when we arrived, stepping out of the car and into the humid seaside evening air the next morning in the rain, we didn't see them, but heard 'em, and i got my best howler monkey guttural call on it didn't matter because it was raining in the rainforest along the caribbean and the sound of them was good enough as if you're going to believe that, dear reader, we wanted to see them, and is why i howled more than a few times
