Monday, June 1, 2009

To the North, Kendal Moutain, the Rum distillers, Portugues Antique







Chipped a tooth today and found work,
trying to open a bottle of vanilla
and walking through the rain, of the muddy streets.

The people are good here
they are like people everyhwere,
there is less to distract the eye here though

There is still Grand Turismo 4,
there is still pot,
there is still liquor,
there are always choices.

There are many more elders here,
they are here,
I can feel how young and naive I am,
I am learning,
I am alive and cutting my teeth
and I love it.

I bought a bike from a man who has a bunch of bikes lined along his house and in a chain link fenced cage.
I wasn't sure what the distinction was.
I looked at his two men's bikes that would fit me. One white with thick tires and a rusty chain,
the other thin tired and green. Both made for the mountains.

"How much are each of these?"
"They'r all 10."
A man of few words.

"I'll take the green one. Can I get more air in the tires?"
Round back at the pump, I open my wallet to pay him.

When I left Boulder I took all my money out of the bank, closed the account, cut the line.
so:
"I have 4 dollars and I have a 100...Maybe I should come back tommorrow?"
He laughs and begins to look in the breast pocket of his coveralls. Then, looking at the 5 bills in my hand, thinks again.

"Maybe you should just take off with it today, and if you don't come back tomoro'
I'll shoot you.

He has warm and serious, cloudy blue eyes.

as I ride down the dirt street I realize I didn't check the true of the tires
and the back is wobbling. Still, I have already fallen in love,
and will figure out the details tommorow.

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