(2012)
everyone sees the red-torn deer ca… the mess made dragging her to be shouldered, everyone gawks and shifts the weight of
jump in the truck, and disappear in moments measured in rust, that flakes off in the friction of…
something feels as though it is at unease because it has not settled.
the Aurora roared above us and in sweeping, arcing curves mimicked the path of the luge.
After close, the image loosens until it is just being held together.
Fish fry in Benoit. Joyce brings a hundred dollars in cod and beer almost right to your mouth and you wonder if it’s
when you get started and you don’t… start digging slowly and softly, move things around. i turned over a rock
Truck sounds like metal on metal– grinding coughing hard–
like the name says, we were there together. and it wasn’t long before we had built a fire and stargazing became staring down
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
sit in a tunnel fall at the northernmost point trip around the sun.
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.
the still rising sun calls to you to rise; early morning dawn light brings you to a particular log and leaves you there,
tension stretching strings of muscle in the dirt warmth next to wildflowers, my feet stepping in prayers.