(2012)
sit in a tunnel fall at the northernmost point trip around the sun.
Fish fry in Benoit. Joyce brings a hundred dollars in cod and beer almost right to your mouth and you wonder if it’s
A stone in the lake old as water. Older than any question. Older than dirt and more stubborn. Round.
jump in the truck, and disappear in moments measured in rust, that flakes off in the friction of…
it is March now. winter hangs on while spring looks on waiting.
when you get started and you don’t… start digging slowly and softly, move things around. i turned over a rock
leeks bursting seedpods, equinox of our summer, moon becoming full.
like the name says, we were there together. and it wasn’t long before we had built a fire and stargazing became staring down
the truck is gone. the truck is scrap. (just that one half of the bumper, just that license plate from Big… everything else is gone.
some metal piece out of place disturbs everything and suddenly i’m windbound on a calm night. left to my own devices,
refreshing to know there’s still n… that’s unsure of its footing. love that’s unsure of what to do a… standing in the truck head-light g… feeling small
the Aurora roared above us and in sweeping, arcing curves mimicked the path of the luge.
before you go, things left undone. loose ends, too many to tie so quickly.
After close, the image loosens until it is just being held together.
Fish fry in Benoit. Joyce brings a hundred dollars in… almost right to your mouth and you wonder if it’s just too easy