Scenic excursions are good for the mana. With amigos and contraband, they transcend to higher caliber. Two summers ago I reunited with my Day Ones to voyage across clandestine lands in Wisconsin. Fish were caught and devoured as whiskey was guzzled, laughs were shared and challenged as stars light lit up the night sky. If any wisdom can be taken from moments like these, none can argue that adventures are waiting to be had. Continue reading
My tow-truck driver tells me his wife says this to him when he doesn’t want to—doesn’t want to go to work, doesn’t want to do the dishes, doesn’t want the Roku left on Once Upon a Time when there’s a new season of Voltron. I would never tell my husband this and he knows it. He knows I wouldn’t just make him act like a better person, I would make him be a better person.
Continue reading
Greetings from the Southeast!
We can’t believe it’s been six years. Six years of poetry, prose, photography and everything in-between. Continue reading
“I love roads:”
–from “Roads”
by Edward Thomas
My nomad heart is, of course,
mad for travel, street-mad, made
for movement, Saami blood, Continue reading
“The unit of wine is the cup.”
–from “In Hell the Units Are the Gallon and the Fuck”
by Anthony Madrid
The unit of whine is the cop. Dead, the difference between hiking
and hitchhiking is panoptics. I was a vet, vetted, taken to the border Continue reading
stood at the end of a long street
and aimed a massive set of fireworks—
I mean, the type of stuff big cities set off
in the U.S.—down the entire path
of the road. What I’m saying is
he was all set to set off the fireworks
horizontal, not aimed at sky, but with
a sort of engineer’s precision Continue reading
I’d walk home and walk
over those sleeping in
the streets, looking in
at the dentist office
where—swear to God—
a woman slept in a dentist
chair. And then a massage
parlor where I could see
people sleeping on all
of the massage tables. Continue reading
