still singing

ice cream hangover
i call it

dragging my ass while i run a lap
around the ultimate field


white hot!
macon bacon!
snack, ashley, tyler and i cheer
from under the shade tentfor the new team consisting of
a convergence of the
red hill rabbits and
macon (bacon) teams


sometimes there is a thin line
between heckling and cheering on
your team


snack economy:
we trade m&m trail mix with mini cookies
for half a tub of emerald valley hummus
passing them back and forth
between front and back seats


the sentences we feed each other
and the hunger they invoke


we pass around the mango booch
from person to person
as we depart


put a rocky outcropping
where it is least expected
(a field of gmo corn)


from the front seat:
lightweight this and
lightweight that
water-proof everything and
all those gamma rays


soy soy soy soy
corn corn corn
i know that poem i say to mica
who sings/recites it
in the driver’s seat
we wrote that poem


there are so many different kinds of tiredness
tony says in the front seat


the things we find ourselves laughing at
as we near the final bends:
biscuit boxes
and ratchet straps
singing sweet child of mine and
livin on a prayer
without a radio


down the final hill
at the end of the drive
we break out in:
i’ve had the time of my life
no i never felt this way before
yes i swear it’s the truth
still singing as we
pull into the parking spot


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Filed under daily practice, poems, poetry, writing

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