notes on the trip...

ah, the second flight took off safely. one scarey thing
i thought i'd somehow lost the birth certs between
plane one & plane 2. panic disorder. thought we'd
have to skip canada or hey, do they fax bcs to the airport.

the airpoet i almost typed. quick backspacing stopped it there
reflection stopped it here. so what am i thinking of? mostly
moving foward. and also how do these families afford to fly?
i left all my yous behind, and now it's me and my favorite guy
for two weeks. i need you to come in closer, come in closer.


they say reading has declined, but anyone who's not playing video
is reading. i only have maybe 20 minutes left on the battery here
so i better save it to navigate out of spokane. i love google maps.
they have a hybrid that rox. tried to install google earth but this stupid
vista program won't let that happen. there's mountains out the window.
mountains. rockies. it took us 15 minutes to get above them.
ws gonna say they looked like something
but somethings only look they them. my skin, in the morning
every birthday. last nite my new squeeze spent the nite
cuz we obeyed the suggestion of getting to the airport 2 hrs early.
what a waste. it was code orange on the homeland security gauge.
has it ever been less since the towers? they took my lighter
but denver gave me matches. now tell me, if i was a terrorist
which i am, but only in my head, which is illegal but not verifiable
couldn't i light the whole small pack and set a seat on fire?

the one who is not a terrorist says to the wannabe hey
i hope someone would be brave enough to stop you.
and i hope if something like box knife was threatening
a plane ful of people the one who is not
would take control and tae kwon do that ass into next year.


or so they say. one side of the plane is blue
one side is grey. the stewardess looks like that nickledoen
actress that played sabrina. the guy next to me is cute
but young. remember, no youth. no youth fuckin. got it? good.
for this trip, no fucking at all.






.

she's right of course. the new black hope rides the political broom
towards the white house. what will happen if he gets the nod..
what shall happen if he doesn't?











my minds still wanting to deal with the last words i said to you
which were i gotta go have a cigarette. the new squeeze likes being called that.
i told him last nite he needs to get anew script. his old one just goes
over and over the way she done him wrong. but i say he let it happen.
he shoulda told her you want out? fine, go, but the kids stay with me.
i think they both just wanted gone.

he showed me this picture of his wife and her daughter on a couch
at a relative's house. in the dark window was the oversized face
very clear, very photoshopped looking of a young girl.
he swears, no photoshop. no reflection, the head was too large
to be someone looking in. my god tht ws freaky.zzzxxaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaasssssssswa








also the flight attendant does not like her job.
and those comedians tht point out how stupid the safety spiel is
are correct. they don't exagerate. however the flight attendant
on the last plane did put more performance into her instructions
about the oxygen. i wonder how long oxygen would last in this plane packed
with people.

i'm tired of wondering. we found the birth certs. there's a 1.5 hours left
and i had sex last nite instead of sleep. naptime.


















()()()___



day 3 at finch's.

morning, well, noon. i've been waking up early
hoping to write but something always interferes.
nothing to write angsty about but i manage.
i've begun to bleed again.
the moon is half full. the mountain top almost touches her.
she follows me up the stairs to the porch on the north side
but then hides to the south. she wants to let me know
she won't be my ruler much longer.

in the mountains, you must be patient.sporadic internet access
is the least of your worries. following a cargo truck up a mountainside
requires waiting for the double yellow line to turn single.
the only thing that moves fast is summer and skateboarders and kids
going downhill on their bikes. in the middle of the road. sometimes
they have helmets, sometimes they don't. but it's like america was
when i grew up. no worries about serial killers and pederasts.

oh kay. some but not like at home. the fear creeps up to these peaks
but you throw it back down the mountain. call it sisyphus cuz it'll make
that trek again. parents always fear for their kids, unwarranted sometimes
but we think it keeps them safe.


i wnt to stay here forever. but i would tire of it. maybe . the snow
keeps from actualizing this dream. i couldn't handle it but they say
that it's temperate in vancouver.


finchy talks about a nude beach, swimming in the freezing water.
or we could stay here and water her garden. later we'll go find a place
to look for rocks. i'm too old to care about nudity anymore. well, to want
to do it. i dn't need to be skyclad. never did. maybe it's a hangup
but oh well. at least it's a normal hangup. lolol.














()()(_)()()(















after nat's tuesday
outside of seattle, like maybe 45 miles
they have a wifi spot here
but it's 7 bux a day. eh. i wnt free. otherwise





no go. i'm listening to my mix
at the rest area, where i just took 2 hits of nelson
omg that is some pungent tasty stuff
janis joplin is on the radio.
i snuck the taste across the border where they indeed
have drug sniffin dogs but mine was
gettin the last of my menstrual blood. now it's sacred
but that one's drying in the foil. the one in the foil
stayed unbloodied. jamis joblin is on my mix.
i want to stay near pikes wharf or whatever. take the public
transit and just see seattle.
yeah. summertime.

weather report:it's grey and cool. mistly
mistly mostly. i've wood's coffee. she tole me i can write

in olympia. recgonizes the the long post and doesn't care.


the one who is traveling stays zen, stays in the moment, it rips
across interstate 5 thru clouds red lines them
evergreen rain forest he says and he's right. where is he?
why is there always a he in her head?

she said i need to be sure i get myself in any novel i write
about all the young dudes. characterise the pathway of feminism
show the disservice its done to women of this midgen. the one between

the boomers and the xers. the one that bred the nexters. the disservice
to them. she said we needed a radical to teach them but no one's brave enuff.
the one who travels says "i love you for your artificial intelligence"
as the cartoon network fretwords inside of style, inside of be iiing.
if i was all zen n stuff,or nirvanaed out the traveller outside
the frame, the one who is sleeping and dreaming away memories of guess what
of childhood the break into fledgling. omg! we're heading straight
into the puyallup valley where trees are thick with water
drip,stones tesselated by the only god that matters, time.

level 9!. saweet.

if i could drive at nite, take off at midnite and go till morning.
it comes late on this coast, the mounts and hills, cliffside obscurants.
my job is to see if i can write an entire line
or paragraf possibly with red lines and have it stil be legilbe

that experiment's been done. we know the human
brain connects in mysterious ways, chris gets pulled
into the mtv cartoon, takes me on, spills out of the eggs.
the traveler recognises and revels in the brainlesstude
of television. all bow to the novelty god. sure it's all been
done before. the stereotypes are petarded more vulgarly
in comedy central land but that's ok.


or is it.




conversation in yellow mustang convertible,
three speed manual

they drive along the orange groves
blossoming, it's spring. even if it's not
it's spring, because orange blossoms
are romantic and this scene has the romance
of youth. you want to know what i was like then?
she asks, shifting into third, grinding her sister's
gears as if she were already dead. fuck that , barb,
if i fuckin want to say fuck then i'ma say it.
you can take the power away from something if you fuckin
say it enuf. fuck fuck fuck fuckfuckfuckfuck fuckity fuck!
she downshifts, a nasty curve on the lakeside memorial road.
they're coming back from getting high. the brakes are iffy.
the top is down. filly hair flips from three heads.
she runs the red light, barb sez oh man
there's a cop. and the lights flash.
i didn't tell dad but he found out anyway.
insurance you know. she turns on the blinkers

pulls into the left hand lane.






family guy in on the tv but they
aren't watching. it's a rerun.
to make sure you get it into your head.


olympia. capital city of washingtone.
rainforests. seatle does have lots of buses.
i tried to stay downtown, on the waterfront
but doubletree no longer has smoking facilities.
i parked the car, walked into the revolving door
saw the notice and revolved 360
back to the red taurus. entered the city by U of W
took the turn down to the other U.
ended up in the boho side of town, couldn't find
a room. no gaudy motel signs. kid asleep in the passenger.
crossed fremont, crissed the river, wended downtown
at the top of the hill i took a west, onto a sanfrancisco
back alley. strips of old northeast and montreal planted
between stone and glass megoliths. the radisson, two blocks
from the aquarium had construction around it. parking
was thirteen bux. i searched some more. got back on five
got off at the port. twice. wandered the pool halls and pawn shop
streets, braille roads, rails scarring the waterfront
concrete, bridges over bridges like mountains caving caverns.
i turned illegaly only once. silver cars parked in taverna lots.
not a pizza joint in sight but you can get teriyaki for a dime.
couldn't turn into the mission hotel. passed on the ontario.
seatle didn't want me. it spit me out, down the road, past des moines
onto a spit of state park nestled between middle class mansions
on puget sound. we found a brook. some stones. a circular jellyfish
and kelp, chopped and silky on the beach. and finally a pizza place,
with a view of the islands just outside of tacoma, and finally
the sun, reflected off the bottoms of the clouds, yesterday's blue
sky in residual patches as autumn's clouds move in to water the forest.