What About A Rain-Free Day?

What about overhead footsteps? What about a break in the weather? What about a weathervane windowpane, and standing up to pedal? And don’t gloat that the weather was fine and the riding was fairly easy and breezy.

And I checked out of comfort for a tidal flat on the bay…

… and a pond on a saturated cerulean blue day — so blue it chased the blues away…

… hey what’s that you say, your favorite national park on an azure May day?

… yes, lucky you, to see it on your bike this way—look it’s Bar Harbor at the far side of Frenchman’s Bay…

… and you feel like a fried rice poke bowl because today is Musubi (Hawaiian Spam Ham Fried Rice) day?

… eat it this this way… I shan’t nay… eat it all you burned all those calories away…

… look, it’s Mount Dorr! You can see it in the distance today!

And there is the Anchorage, the place where you’ll stay…

… and there’s your bike—in the room stowed away…

… and a dinner fit for a twelve year-old, because “fried” is the way!

Bike Day 29:
Start: Ellsworth, ME
End: Bar Harobor, ME
Miles: 25.57

And… apropos of extortionate lack of proportion…

… and just because I haven’t forgotten that this is a creative writing blog — not exclusively a bicycle tour journal — an influx of redux… and a 12 year-old’s dinner (not a protein within a dozen miles of this immature meal of poutots and pickle fries, something only possible when you burn 1,609 calories bicycling away)… I am not allowed another fried meal until October… “carb bombs away!”

Happy blue sky day!

a module script failed (redux)

(thanks to John Coyote for reminding me I wrote this…)

i cant move

importing a module script failed
butterfly wings detached
a planet catches
fire on the screen
truer more visceral
than life itself

we are drunk on simulacra
we are a sick clan
we are death
incarnate

waiting to bloom

What I’m Reading:

Death became history, geography rewrote itself. And yet earth was reborn. It was not a miracle that life was destroyed and then re-emerged. It was the raging stubbornness of living organisms that simply would not give in.

—Lydia Yuknavitch / The Book of Joan