Sometimes a fear of things unknown, of things I simply don't know how to handle, though you know how I hate to admit it. And you and all yr well-meant promises that prove too tough for you to keep, and the things we plug ourselves into, to forget for a moment the speed at which the earth spins beneath our feet.
I have only stinging words, and you have only stinging spoonfuls of the recurring past.
Basil leaves under the sun on cooler days. Grimy toes shoving at the mud. Crates full of all the secrets we lug around from home to home and only keep closed tight.
Monday, August 11, 2008
Wednesday, August 06, 2008
ramble round
In Canada we ate platefuls of the heartiest, wholesomest food, wandered around the farm identifying plants and trees and flowers, got eaten by mosquitoes in the woods, and cats invaded the van through every open door at once, looking for food or lovin.
In New York, we got asked for directions by a messenger, got invited to hang out with squatters in Tompkins Sq Park, got warned about cops by a long-dreaded dude at the bike shop. It's strange, all the impressions people get from you in a city you don't even know. Only two days - one for Manhattan and one for Brooklyn, but we biked far and fast and squeezed between rush hour taxis and soared down big hills in the park and ate apples, with peanut butter, by the water while the helicopters took off nearby.
In Boston we drank coffee all over town, sat on the sidewalk in the business district eating chinese pastries and watching the cars and the bikes go by. We rode up to Mystic Lake and dangled our feet in the water off a dock for way too long, rushed off to eat vegan ice cream with Nick, showed up at the Charles Hotel drenched soaked dripping wet n dirt onto the clean floors, to change into my dress and his rented tux and spend the evening drinking free jack n cokes at my cousin's wedding.
We came back too soon; we almost stayed on the road (on people's couches) for even longer. Once you remember how good it feels to visit and explore and learn each city by riding down every one of its streets, you have to drag your feet all the way back home. We didn't sleep for two days straight. We sat forever at Customs to cross back over from Canada. We played putt putt and biked to the Warren Dunes, to miss rush hour in Chicago, and then arrived just in time for the biggest storm I've ever ever seen.
They say it was 800 bolts of lightning a minute, and those are just the ones that touched the ground.
(you played me a song in the thunder and the rain and it's never sounded so good to be back on our own porch again.)
In New York, we got asked for directions by a messenger, got invited to hang out with squatters in Tompkins Sq Park, got warned about cops by a long-dreaded dude at the bike shop. It's strange, all the impressions people get from you in a city you don't even know. Only two days - one for Manhattan and one for Brooklyn, but we biked far and fast and squeezed between rush hour taxis and soared down big hills in the park and ate apples, with peanut butter, by the water while the helicopters took off nearby.
In Boston we drank coffee all over town, sat on the sidewalk in the business district eating chinese pastries and watching the cars and the bikes go by. We rode up to Mystic Lake and dangled our feet in the water off a dock for way too long, rushed off to eat vegan ice cream with Nick, showed up at the Charles Hotel drenched soaked dripping wet n dirt onto the clean floors, to change into my dress and his rented tux and spend the evening drinking free jack n cokes at my cousin's wedding.
We came back too soon; we almost stayed on the road (on people's couches) for even longer. Once you remember how good it feels to visit and explore and learn each city by riding down every one of its streets, you have to drag your feet all the way back home. We didn't sleep for two days straight. We sat forever at Customs to cross back over from Canada. We played putt putt and biked to the Warren Dunes, to miss rush hour in Chicago, and then arrived just in time for the biggest storm I've ever ever seen.
They say it was 800 bolts of lightning a minute, and those are just the ones that touched the ground.
(you played me a song in the thunder and the rain and it's never sounded so good to be back on our own porch again.)
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