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petuniawhiskey Dec 2013
pancakes started my rugged day,
I quit hittin' the hay,
roughly around 10am.

I refused High Focus,
and wondered why
the medication the
prescribed was so
blah.

I know why,
but we keep these
things to ourselves.

Once I took my headphones
out, I began to hear
the blasphemy
around me.

The man at the library,
talking business,
taking business.
Telecon, christmas shopping,
Mr. Walker dead too
young.

And as I sit in these
seats once again,
the same I sat in when
the SAT's were the only
importance to me,
I wonder where I was.

So I took off on
Mama's crossroads
road bicycle.
It felt good,
gosh it felt great.

One stop on the narrow's
at a waterfall to fly back to
a blackout and memory lane.

Over the Delaware,
away from NJ,
take me to PA.

One stop at the homestead
for a buck-fifty coffee
fix and a few chapters
from On the Road.
Thanks, Jack.
I needed those laughs.

So I carry on,
on the toe-path
along the canal.
Some circles
and squares to remind
me of hopscotch,
or maybe a sign.

A light up of an American
Spirit, and I can never
seem to escape everyone
when I'm on the run.

Passer-by's,
a woman and her Labradors,
a handsome man with shades,
a blonde, gelled, comb-over,
and a cell phone to the ear in one
hand.
oh, and ME, the smoker
on the cycle.

I know I said those packs
were my last, but really,
I've hit rock bottom,
a broke rock bottom,
and this pack is
surely my last.

So I made it over the
Delaware, searching for
a treasure hunt.
The Frenchtown Market,
was beat, so I peddled
on Rt.12 and made it
to Chris's Citgo-
if you care to know.

Made it to the center
of great-gasoline
smells, and found my
treasure hunt.
In fact, the generous man
gave me two.

Pedal to the metal,
click-clack the sound of
metal banging from
something, hitting
something, on a bike
I can't call my own.

I continue on Rt.12
and pass by the dead
deer, a water break,
here and there.
Hot sweat, cold sweat,
de-layer, zipper up.

The fake flowers,
a compliment,
a pretty hint,
that some one maybe
loves me.
And I keep my eyes
fixated on what is
in front of me-
a car passes,
I LOVE YOU
writes the handwriting
on a white vehicle.

So, pedal to the metal,
I carry on towards
the library,
to a place I feel
safest.

No intentions of even
renting a thing-
except maybe ******.
However, finish what I start,
can't seem to do that so
easily these days.
Ohh, but I'd like to.

That's a start.
A quick stop,
for a quick slice,
and the time to skim the
Treasure Hunt.

Oh  a beautiful day,
I made it from start
to finish.
I'm sorry I can't
seem to do as you say,
and the options,
and choices,
they really do slay.
Shashank Virkud Apr 2015
Stella told us she was bi.

I stared down at my oysters,
covered in parmesan,
taste like the ***** in Frenchtown.

With my silken tongue,
flicked another from its
shell, let the goo drip
down my lip, and run
up my wrist.
Awake
Dive into you and feel immediate comfort
Vast country awaits
Each memory starts with you
Now begin my gray and blue
Take my feet
Unwrap this earth
Right beneath me
Each step unravels

The First True Test

Open the doors
Straight to the back
I look
So many options
Nike?
Pink and purple?
Blue and gray?
These will work
Check out
-one month before

Surrounded by mountains
The waterfalls roar, showing their strength
Sitting in the middle of the lake
Sun-kissed
Swimming to the steep rocky cliff
1…2…3… I jump
The water hits my feet
Time to head home
It’s late
-less than 24 hours before

It’s dark
It’s early
I’m tired

Am I ready?
No training begins my worry
I lace you up

The race begins
The sun rises and blue skies appear
My feet are comfortable

Mile 6
Is it over yet?
My calf’s ache
My hips hurt
Almost halfway

Mile 12
Almost there
I’m supported

Mile 13.1
We made it
First long journey
-marathon

Take Me to the Lakes

We begin our warm July morning driving up the dirt road
Following Mr. Google

Problem: no service; Google is wrong; reevaluate

Turn around
We’re going the right way
The road narrows
Mountains gets steeper
SNOW!
Were stuck
-part 1

Bug spray. check
Sunscreen.  check
Paddleboard.  check
Fishing poles.  check
Friends.  check
Shoes.  check, check, check

Swarmed by mosquitoes as the truck doors open
Lake 1 in sight
Paddleboard ready
No luck

We hike

2 miles later
Look down on lake 2
Shallow, blue, beautiful
The hammock is up

Just us
Peace
Worth it
-part 2

A Day at the Peak

The road is steep and rocky
Truck moves slow as it climbs to our destination
Google leads the way

We begin our hike
Following a trail that was once there
Brush and overgrown trees engulf us

1.5 miles later
Are we going the right way?
Do we keep going through the brush that touches my hips?
Do we turn around?

We head back
Another 1.5 miles
My legs scratched
Feet ready to go on
-lost

We travel up the steep road once again
2 miles later
A distinct trail!

Are intended journey begins
One step after another
The trails flat
It gets steeper than the steepest switchback of the ‘M’
Now rocky

Hundreds of the biggest rocks piled up
The peaks in sight
We climb the rocks
The view

We can see Missoula
There’s the Bitterroot
Frenchtown
Nine Mile
Turn around
The Missions
Flathead

Don’t want to leave
Peering down
A lake
Maybe another day
Snowballs

It’s time to head back
Our 10 mile day comes to an end

Thank you soles for making it
-worth every mile

Waiting as the clock ticks
On the shelf
Never ending thoughts
Deciding
Every memory
Racing to get more

— The End —