Where the pics at?!?!

they.re coming!!!
sorry for the delay guys...

Winks and Handshakes + "City"

I told Phill he's winks cause that's eyes blinking like shutters like cameras and also having fun and getting it and I'm handshakes because that's got something to do with sympathy and reaching out and understanding and touch like me to you you to me.

*

City



And bounces and cities but what a vague word to invoke to call upon almost a gimme a free pass to memories and alleys glass sewer smells cafes hoards people clad in black and humming and hair light artificial light bounced off rain slicked streets into passing eyes and dandies and fancies what a cheap way to appear to be saying something and saying very little actually but maybe that's ok if a poem is seen as an avenue of access to his or her or yours or mine our notions aspirations understandings so then maybe it's ok to say city and call city a poem and leave it.

*

Oh yeah... I got hit by a car on Monday. I'm ok, aside from a sore leg and some scratches and bruises.

Sunday, June 24, 2007

Sunday, June 24th

Calming
and coming off of
days flying weeks off
and deadlines
who's telling me to keep on posting
keep it up
and so you want to be a writer
not really a matter of want
hmm...

just sort of something that is
a part of this time

and that's not meant to be profound.

It's nice sometimes
to spend days alone
to self sustain
or try to

and to cook
for some friends
and not demand too much
to not overly identify
with some things and fumbles
or whatever
along the way
those crippling things
like what I wrote
about an alcoholic summer
that won't let me go

it's too much of me
at certain moments
and is crippling
but how do we
not become our decisions
what then
do we carry
and how to pick and choose
how to make do with
not even regrets
but changes of
(I'm not going to say heart).

Yesterday
the cool summer evening
took me to ones
that felt the same
in summers past
and I'd be lying
if I said summer didn't try to kiss me

the jacket weather
is fireworks
and long car drives and cries
and some really sad things
seeing love leave
and asthma attacks
waking up sitting
disabled in bed
old jobs cats
walks movies with
edamame appetizers
I'll always cherish always
yet this stuff came up
with a quickness

and I was trying to wait tables
trying shortly after
to sweep glass
and close tabs

while the wind and the water
on the tables
the people coming in
and out and a few shots of whiskey
were just like fishing in lily pads

trying to but finding
it difficult to reel in like that

reeling in like that.

http://www.madbikepolo.org/

madison bike polo.

leif broke his chain.

Dug and Flipped About

i took this one, lina, so i'm claiming photo credits. bbq/beer/bike locks/cigs [madison]


*

finally got a chance to put these ones upright and add some captions. the first few are from l.a. and the others are s.f.

george conducting a transaction. [l.a.]

skid spots.

close-up of previously posted orange20 mural.

buffmonster show at the corey helford gallery, culver city.

pink on pink.

post-indian food hugs. l-r lindsay, tattiya, george, nick. [s.f.]

post-mash premier race shot. can remember this guy's name but he was nice.

another in front of victoria theater.

taken around 10pm near the end of the second showing.

after-spot #2 (after #1, noodles).

george.

Promiscuous

Promiscuous


I.
Was pleased with a conversation last night
a talk about the place
of poetry the role
of the writer context promiscuous
identification is a term I told
you about and we discussed that
disclaimer I gave you prior to
reading some of my pieces not
too long ago and was mildly obsessed
with this new thing happening
suddenly now I’m showing more
immediately the little
things and I’m sort of concerned
with what that will do a new
thought of myself as this gathering tool
bringing in a new angle moments
of reflection and so on
and you said something
about the objectivity of a work once
it’s been produced how it’s there
and done and
my responsibility as writer is partially
removed suspended but who really
knows about that and maybe why
we really choose to believe some
things is just to help us get along
getting along not quite fine but
along nevertheless I’m on we
like what we need to still
repetitious been swallowing me
a bit.

II.
I’m trying to tell you it’s
ok because I don’t know what else
there is. I don’t have
much of a grasp here
so I’d tell you to take
it back a bit take it down
but don’t think I could lead
by example we like what we need
to like what we need to
to remind you to look
out for the beneaths
understand the momentum
keep eyes partially on
the watch for those looks
at yourself in mirrors
in clean windows
while strolling
instances where you start
start to feel apart
if those looks of your own
bear you down
then you’ll know
and I know that too
so I’ll be there to
look hug to you.

Small Things

top: mash sticker from the premier.
2nd: ticket.
3rd left: premier race spoke card.
3rd right: cadence sticker from one of the race stops that owner dustin klein was manning.
4th: a journal scan from some stuff i scribbled on monday.


[i've also added captions to the l.a. and s.f. photos i uploaded earlier this week.]

I.m Not Dead.....yet

0 miles: the essentials [although more than 2 pairs of
underwear would have made it complete]

5 miles: "HUZZAH!"
scooping up mr. backonja



207 miles: officer benjamin c. lee [takes no shit]



1219 miles: austin, tx
jameson west [aspiring film-maker and gracious host]
*nevermind the hair*



thursday night. whiskey. 16mm projector. 60s porn in dining room.
[mr. backonja was enjoying the view from the bathroom floor]



sad to leave austin [actually jameson]
@ Kerby Lane Cafe on Guadalupe



1785 miles: el paso, tx
Nick Nolte and Steven Segal
[never rains in El Paso...or Juarez....]



2113 miles: some rest stop near tucson, az
Vuki takes a stab at driving



2487 miles: just outside of the hoover dam
the thought of running water inspires Vuki
[he.s peeing]



hassie at the dam



2520 miles: las vegas, nv
a pile............of junk



2805 miles: bakersfield, ca
...



3091 miles: sf, ca
benjamin excited to bunk up



more to come...

MASH World Premier

scene from beneath the golden gate bridge in sf. this is where everyone met for the race to the mash world premier. somewhere in here you might see andy, one of the mash riders.. he was the one organizing/dishing out spokecards. i hate referring people for pics, but i've posted larger versions of these at on flickr.

post-race gathering in front of victoria theater in sf as we wait for the valet bike parking to commence.

valeted bikes. lots of kids, lots of bikes. the line to get in (for those who didn't ride the race/hence receive a free ticket or otherwise get the will-call hook-up) wraps around the corner of the theater for quite a distance.

the opening shot. massan barreling down an sf hill. fast.

....more to come!!

L.A.

bomber pro with hed3 650 front and hed disc rear. george, never cease to awe me. tattiya's new khs. black plastic bags for beer.

venice beach. paint cans. this is where we drank the beer.

venice beach.

george and i made it out to the natural history museum because it was free.

west hollywood, l.a. purple's the new gold. i had just gotten yet another espresso fix.

a mural that was just being finished at orange 20, just off melrose in l.a. i encountered a flat tire a few miles away and marched my ass all the way here to find them closed. luckily, owner jim was present and working on some repairs, etc. so sold me some tubes and let me use the facilities.

more to come later!!!

Blemish

Fucking fucking suicide. I wrote one about my cousin Keith committing himself to death not so long ago and today I received another voicemail, also from my dad, telling me another person I know took himself. Kid was 16 years old. Erik Michael Thompson, what the fuck are you doing killing yourself before you even know what life is about?

City Lights

I'm in L.A. taking my time taking time away writing/chilling/eating/biking(yes, biking)/having fun.

**From Walt Whitman's "Poets to Come"

"Poets to come...

I am a man who, sauntering along without fully stopping,
turns a casual look upon you and then averts his face,
Leaving it to you to prove and define it,
Expecting the main things from you."


**Journal excerpts:

The trash bin of our lives one piece nudges against another, behind beneath blinds twisted lit firecrackers July rain nudging in the dim seclusion grounded by the floor grounded by exchanged fingernails--good trade--cut that shit off and walk more lightly safe inside... This succession so pressed for time... Bruises feel the berry on my hip laughing pavement and I felt it a little too closely rubbing in and absorbing always more than I was meant to... Need a reference point for this? Fuck you... Vanity... Cheers to the whatifs and we'll or you'll neverknows that strips me em down and holds me there dangling again yeah dangling and suspended never get reused to that feeling cause that's the main part of the shake vs. exquisite rendezvous of the bare riverfront--ha just jumping... I'm of the firm belief that all would be extremely chill if we'd pull off the road and share our points I'm not going to go so far as to say you'd laugh, but maybe would turn your attention more to the direction of the weather.


**Went to a poetry slam last night and wanted to but didn't read this poem:

"City Lights"


There we were, pastless and proofless just taking it easily.
Confidence doesn't tie us
though. It's forgetting
our pasts and shaking
hands.

So that when I was brushed
up on late one
night, city lights,
because of something
I said, because
unfortunately, I
reacted,
my industrialized glance
was met with hushes
and a blur
and I was too busy
checking my breath
to check for stab
wounds.

By the time
I get to the end
of the street
I'm so damn full
of holes
and impressions
that I need a smoke
break.
And there it goes
leaking
out of me,
thanks to you,
because I'm so full
of holes.