...with his eyes once a shining sea

pedaling the streets of

California

head full of draining

garbage, of waste

looking around, seeing what's waiting

feeling ready to either

embrace what's left with resignation or to

embrace it with what I know is right to

be true

as it is with the words

with how we clean our teeth or

suffer the damages

out there pedaling

four cups of caffeine

going toe to toe with

the head cold

pouring sweat toward

a hill

thinking of summer waiting to the north

while a band from there

plays on in my headphones

while I crank past two bums

on the grass and ride off the curb

toward the hill and I think about

how we destroy what we love

not with action but with inaction

I shift into the lowest gear

to punish my cold

while the sweat pours out

and the guitars thunder

beautifully around the

stanza:

Augustino

With his eyes once a shining sea

I said he's half a shadow, god don't

let that be me...

up the hill

suppress the cough

the anger

level out and breathe

watch the leaves and sun

and remember that

we are here

for just so long

and the time

we have

might be nothing

in the big picture of

things

but for me

it's all I know

and what stems from that

is a fist of years grown

into miles and stories

and novels

a fist of colored fingers

with branches confused

and leaves stained

with decision

both bad and good

the base

planted in blood

and poems.