I was riding up from Los Angeles With a pistol in the driver’s glove box. The sea was blue, the sand was dry And the sun, seven shades past hot. I was riding up past Castaic chasing Some other person’s dream – That black sedan went round and round, It was a dusty mean machine. […]
MoreThere is a pit of grief and guilt and pain that is so smooth sided it is impossible to climb out of. I don’t know if I will be able to scrabble up the sides today. Instead I am going to try and just survive it. Stop struggling, stop climbing and give in to it. […]
MoreThere are fights that happen along the road. There is times when it gets all too real, all too difficult. We had been living in the parking lot of a Walmart in Olympia, Wa. Billy’s cheques had gone awol, we didn’t have enough money for camping, we barely had enough for food and gas. I […]
MoreThe royal road, stripped of it’s original name “El Camino Real”, and designated 101, route 1, the Coastal Highway, made virtually obsolete except for the towns and communities that still dot its’ route, mostly catering for tourists and hippies, it’s job taken over by the staid, dull, ugly, boring 5. I don’t care if I […]
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