yee harrr
you crack tree branches on your left knee. the one still bruised from tumbling two weeks ago.
you sit by the fire you have inherited. the building grows its own ethos, like the freedom to
have fire here in this inner city space. or maybe its inherited dis-temerity from the meeting place
park across the road.
you sit by the fire. thinking traditional fireside thoughts. wishing to think other original ones.
or at least delve into the twelve haiku you are trying to write by saturday's gathering.
you think that maybe, despite, those boys from brokeback mountain had the right idea. as far as affairs go.
three times a year, for twenty years, with horses. and camp fires.
you crack tree branches on your left knee. courting pain cleansing rituals. you sit by the fire for two hours,
thinking traditional thoughts, till your hair is smoked sweet dusky.
you sit by the fire you have inherited. the building grows its own ethos, like the freedom to
have fire here in this inner city space. or maybe its inherited dis-temerity from the meeting place
park across the road.
you sit by the fire. thinking traditional fireside thoughts. wishing to think other original ones.
or at least delve into the twelve haiku you are trying to write by saturday's gathering.
you think that maybe, despite, those boys from brokeback mountain had the right idea. as far as affairs go.
three times a year, for twenty years, with horses. and camp fires.
you crack tree branches on your left knee. courting pain cleansing rituals. you sit by the fire for two hours,
thinking traditional thoughts, till your hair is smoked sweet dusky.