ANOTHER DAY

I’m alive.  I breathe.  I feel my ribs push out, pull in and I feel my heart’s slow contractions.  I feel its pace quicken as I step harder on the pedals.  The city bleeds under thick black clouds of rain, the gutters rush with sooty water.  Reflections scatter on the glossed asphalt.  I fly.   Everything breaks . . . → Read More: Rain. Night. City. Bike.

The smooth flagstone tile sidewalks of Buenos Aires are a serious hip-breaking threat when it rains.  They turn snot-slick and if your shoes have little traction, you might as well be practicing your triple lutzes, because you are for all intents and purposes skating.  Recently, I wore my flip flops to take my nieces to school.  . . . → Read More: The side “walks” of buenos aires

i feel like i’m meant for something.
What a line!!
We’re all meant for something; that’s undeniable.
Some of us are meant for the grave.
Some for hell
Some for nirvana
Some fore purgatory
Some for limbo
Some for heaven
Some for B&Bs
Some of us are meant for mundanity
Some of us for greatness
Some of us for spelling championships
Some of us for quiet desperation
Some of us . . . → Read More: a sudden list