Tag: narrative

∴ through desert scrub and stone
two hikers stride, one towering, one lesser so
one with a 16L pack, light and lean
the other gigantorific
2 gallons of water an’a
full course meal on his back

through switchbacks, they speed
their journey begun
it becomes a race
never heard the starting gun

footfalls echo
rhythm steady n qwk
one moves “twelve” strides
dwarfed by others’s 1

now scrambling
Siphon Draw’s steep rise
boulders guard, nod to their pace
hand over foot move with blur
and foot over hand
it happened so fast

scrapes become temporary badges
ascending higher still a daunting rise
just a leap, a dash, and a slight stumble to go

now Atop the iron summit, they stand side by side
in silent awe of the desert’s view open wide ∴

∴ ‘neath clouded skies
a fortress stands
wallows of longing within
to roam once more
yet your lingering
upon parole’s denial
despite innocence to redeem
a spirit adrift
in the quiet present
where true freedom awaits
on butterfly wings ∴

∴ hole in th wall Thai
seating for nine
eleven with a squeeze

clatter of pans
patrons slurping & munching
heavenly dishes, khao soi my fav

young child takes advantage
acoustics in th bathroom
belts more or less accurate
classic hit

rock & roll all nite

envy of her parent’s
child-rearing

unawares

her restaurant audience explodes
APPLAUSE and LAUGHING LAUGHING LAUGHING ∴

∴ at thee downtown Almost, Nowhere pub 
perhaps you’ve strayed in before 

we indulge ourselves for dins
overstuffed burritos with  
GuacomoleChristmas-sauce-sourcream delight 
a feast that may rend us to bits 

margaritas flow, seemingly never cease
satisfying our craving for salt-rimmed glasses
remnants of which have just previously been baked
  onto our skin 
after many hours and then some traversing 
not well-waypointed paths
since late last afore nighty 
in the Promised-Not-To-Say 

unconcerned with appearance, yet 
i scrub dried blood from my skin 
exchanged my boots for sandals 
another trek of discovery checked off 
and a toenail, perhaps a casualty 
i feel it twinge, but haven’t glanced downward yet 

still, there’s matters to attend to 

nourishment and libations, an alcoholic balm 
for a subtle pang whose location eludes me

rising for a bout of darts, i discern 
a weightier drag in my aim, 
and my toe, now numb to sensation. 
the bartender’s pour has been generous 
my companions deny such effects 
i glance over at her
a shared chuckle escaping her lips 

approaching, inquisitive of her tale, 
my speech falters o’er my initial words 
and now both feet feel off-kilter 

yet she minds not 

“i’m the late-mid and i get off at eight” ∴ 

∴ in a Brooklyn pier
below roaring traffic
a dance troupe emerges
painted in vibrant chalk
casting spells with limbs
defying gravity and stone confines
a narrative of chaos and order
ghostly traces
in an ecstasy of motion
brocade vignettes
now transcending
Brooklyn’s hold ∴