#85 ah camp

hemp

gimp

beads

all camp bling

sandal tans

and dirt lines

damp swimsuits

dock talks

sunscreen

and burnt ears

homesickness

followed by tears of leaving

#84 nb

they'll get me there

the 26.2

and all the miles 

between 

here and there

race day lace-up

will be 

a sanctified ceremony

they'll get me through

all weather

all obstacles

all failure

they'll get me to the starter's gun

and over a finish ribbon

discarded long before our arrival

they'll get me there

#83 beware of red

head

wine 

sign

danger

one 

turns into 

two

turns into...

brush of shoulder 

turns into

hand on thigh 

turns into...

#82 what happened?

the sieve of memory holds the good

the wish-i-were-anywhere-else's

slide through openings that grow with time

until childhood is a breeze

puberty, a dream

high school, a fairy tale

no enemies

no boring days

no wishing for freedom

no when-i'm-a-grown-up's

perhaps it's better that way

not to have to answer

to our childhood selves

#81 mountain watching

through the window

the three sisters beckon

bird of prey

headless

between proctor and the other

tooth-like in appearance

wings of stone

risen from an ocean floor

watching without eyes

#80 mum (accepted in "message in a bottle')

she had a space that was hers

eight by eight

counter

sink

fridge

stove

cupboards

her space

command centre

and if offspring entered

she'd scold or tease

(depending on patience)

out from under my heels

accurate for the first two

but by the time the sixth

intruded the zone

some had passed her in height

supper would be ready

when her man entered

lunchbox in hand

exhausted

and always something for his sweet tooth

chocolate cake

chocolate chip cookie

chocolate haystack

(yes, theme noted)

sometimes dishes right after supper

sometimes after their 6 o'clock news

teacups in hand

strong

later she'd prepare lunches

a relaxed flurry

bread and sandwich meat and snacks and fruit and wax paper and lunchbags and boxes

then

she'd find her book and her chair

and sink into both

before bedtime

#79 the cycle

i stay in the shower

re-scrubbing

re-rinsing

watching the suds swirl 

out of sight

not ready to face today

a normal day

not ready

finally

i exit into the towel

back to bed

read

eat lunch

leftovers

again

internet

tv

any invention or excuse 

supper

not hungry

crackers

the week and the weekend

are the same

evening drags

then bedtime 

and i promise 

tomorrow

tomorrow

again

#78 two seasons

meets her through friends of friends

knows she's attractive

but for weeks

denies his body's thoughts 

she is reminded of others in her life

he opposites the immature ones 

gentle

patient

drawn not by his body 

but to it

through his aura and mind

advances are slow

imperceptible

but after two seasons

winter and spring

fall together 

between bedside lamps

#77 anxiety and depression

body tightens

slouches

phone ignored

breathing

from the mouth

yesterday's clothes will do

procrastination rules

and belief in your own word

drops

withdraw

into your community

your house

your room

your body

#76 this we'll destroy

got a girl overseas

patriotic weapon by her pillow

full of taxpayer ammunition

as cnn scares my nightmares

decal ribbons on my toyota

support our troops

all i can do

her empty pillow fights tears

lonesome

helpless

angry

and no one knows why you're there

daniel's sandwiches fall apart

before the lunch bell rings

he shows

the few pictures we receive

brags

collector sports cards

and i know you're due home soon

and i pray to the one i curse

that you'll make it

but what then?

#75 a ride on the john deere

the world shrinks

slips away

my young ankles

bounce

along the trail

in the wake of my ancestral manhood

driven now by my father

the exhaust clears its throat

as i sit on the frankensteined rear platform

then my feet

pseudo-run

backwards

imagining their strength to push the tractor

and my father

in the driver seat

the world shrinks

slips away

into the distance

behind my father

ahead of me

#74 to die happy

to treat the king as i treat the janitor

we are all equal

crown on head or plunger in hand

to appreciate my parents and their struggles

accept the things i wouldn't do

admire the things i couldn't do

to tap the 8-ball when force is unnecessary

not for karma's sake but because it is right

to know the power of surrender

to find, only after i stop seeking

to learn to ignore the false voice

that screams premature surrender

to save the face of others

and to be able to face myself

when my own face feels lost

to thank those around me for their contributions

to smile at strangers

and to listen to people in need

to behave
not because my actions might be recorded

not because a well-selling sacred book says so

but to live according to my own inner god, my voice

whisper and shout

what is right

to live with mistakes i made

earning my position at the start line

struggling to the finish ribbon

broken or not

to accept and to learn

and to sleep

tired

smiling

knowing

#73 late june

not snow

it's june

not dandelion fluff

as many think

a wandering white-out

a moseying monsoon

a flurry of cottonwood seed

approaching ground

enjoying the scenic route

where it lies 

waiting for a disturbance

to bring more

lazy adventure

#72 drop those books

the days grow 

for one more week

even the strict ones

take us outside 

the sun

cooks our room

slowing the clock

i'm convinced

after-school snacks

come from the freezer

and supper from the barbeque

when the teacher rings the bell

#71 contrast

when will we evolve into trees

content to put down roots

to recognize the power of competition

and when it is time to give back to the Earth

to help the others

to spend a life reaching and living and content

does it always need to start things?

can't it be omitted?

can it be justified in a margin

(left or write)?

or 

placed at the end

extra 

pazow 

the title

#69 first drafts

a seed is planted

compost is mixed

something will grow

tended or not

eaten or not

something is here

the step has been taken

something is in motion

a cosmos is changed

#68 just like a big boy

seeing the top of the fridge

toes reaching the bottom of the bed

going into the store alone

driving

on lap

supervised

alone

buying a first house

knee touching the floor to propose

sending the child into the store alone

living

for self

for family

for society

#67 inspired by Lifting

head against bird's window

eyes see clouds

mind sees memories

a new life-season begins

darkness and inspiration fight for space 

between overhead compartment

and floataion device

she shifts back

headrest

reclines all three inches

relief and the unknown

fill her stomach

along with in-flight pretzels

#66 vena amoris

old anger rests under dust

once shiny and new and promising

now a forgotten black box

back corner of closet shelf

once everything

now nothing

then

one knee'd

now

no need

#65 the unspecial brink

when putting feet to floor overwhelms

when breaths won't go down past the mouth

and life piles up

in front

around

behind

on top

monthly reports are overdue at work

and the visa bill remains in the pile of papers

unopened

life feels like a to-do list item

when luck and happiness

mix to form guilt 

when competence feels like a lie

and adulthood 

a mean trick

when motivation and paycheque are spent

credit card and energy maxed out

when you can't finish what you start

#64 US

America

an empire sick on and of itself

America

bloated and obese and still eating

drive-thru jumbo biggie-size crap

America

glued to our plasma screens

fear and boredom and convenience and procrastination

tv and all its potential

become social masturbation

passing time until we sleep

sports highlights and youtube and celebrity gossip

idle idols

what is the return policy on these choices we make?

#63 from a park bench

floats and bobs and floats and bobs

a life of leisure and bread crumbs

then

Golden Retriever

Splash!

and they take flight

hawnking squawking

winged bowling pins

#62 campfire smoke and lake water

not a kid

not a teen
not really
license yes
independent no
not really
the finding-yourself years
want to work with kids
a teacher?
a psychologist?
a nurse?

and so they roll in
white and clean
many driven by mum and dad

a summer passes

they return home
exhausted
some decisions made
dirt-tans under flip-flops
hemp-memories on wrists
finding out that you never find yourself
or you always find yourself
depending on how things are going

#61 i do not

rusty wedding bells

silent conversations

doors closing 

words bottled

germinating within souls

poisoning society

walk outside

don't forget your smiles