God, I worry about her walking towards those cliffs and soft spots of/ and on the earth consisting of deterioration. Those places where judgment and athletic charisma collide.
Her movements, innocent and toe-in toe-out unaware.
Could I catch her?
You need firm grip upon this terrain. Such as myself. Fishing, and taking pictures and taking it and her in. Sometimes I wonder where the firm grip is, the godspeed, the footing.
I have fell in love simply with this life and this community. I wake up and bath my face in it and make decisions everyday to become more a part of it.
To learn more, read more, live more, write more, walk more, breath more, fish more, catch more, smoke more (fish), shit, pee, love, kiss and everything I know more.
To roll myself up in the sheets of this life, and sleep more.
Peace and sound.
Until her innocence gently raps upon my shoulder.

More of that too please.

All the armies. All the harmony.

Couldn’t make me
Understand this. Her. Her. Moving. Like a lion or a leap of faith.
Into lakes and rivers and being connected to a real life for the first time. My real life, for the first time.
I just guess that is how it happens. Love and all that. You bang it up for a while, you give up for awhile, you cry. You work your way out for awhile, you might live in some stupid place for awhile, you kiss for awhile.
You reject love.
You kiss some more and live in that stupid place for awhile, you sort of try your hand at love awhile and maybe sex, you get lost for awhile.
You end up all right.
Making out, your tongue against hers, you sleep sleeping.


All that hilt skelter unknowing before moving up here. (hilt meaning, sword in your pants, skelter, meaning god fuck knows?)
Shape shifting on the phone. Texting. Checking email. Laughing jolly.
Selling myself, having to become myself.
Every morning at 7:30, 6:30 Alaska time, making a phone call
Digging through the lumber upon Bruce’s truck… wearing gloves, hands snapping cold and frosty. Thinking it is better… some god some where out there. there are women and boosems and love and kind words and a simple job behind a desk where we in the future world use our minds.
Some fucking place where I might use my mind and love and be loved for all things I know I was placed on this earth for.
It seemed simple at the time, loading lumber 7:30, 6:30 Alaska time,
It seemed hard at the same time, like I could never leave.
All the boys in the lumber yard holding me back.. terry was holding me back, Babe was holding me back, Bruce and Jeff were holding me back. Karl and my loyalty were holding me back. Those killer kids in the lumber yard working for 12 bucks an hour were holding me back.
Everybody was good at what they did.
And in the end that was holding me back.

I wanted to be great at loving.