outside La Crosse

it's a long lonely road.

pitch black, mostly.

up comes a bend.

a cryptic glow from nowhere.

a creeping orange-yellow glow among spiderwebbed pines.

it's a house.

with a barn and a john deere tractor out front.

few cows -- one dead. legs folded beneath it's massive shanks.

sheep.

corn.

lots and lots of corn. dry now, just beige and old black.

but it's night, so you cruise.

a steady pace; tentative, watching for deer.

saw @ least half a dozen, i believe.

eyes twinkling under the moon.

and headlights.

gotta be careful though.

they'll kill ya.

step right onto that long lonely road and...

SPLAT!

either you or bambi.

and sometimes bambi got antlers.

and sometimes bambi got a body like dumbo.

nevertheless, down the long lonely road, tiny villages decay away.

never catching on.

never hitting that vein of silver.

the kids all gone.

women sparse.

men drinking Blatt's.

Wisconsin reclaiming its turf. green and red and yellow.

winter approaching -- the Amish clop, clop, clopping along side us.

they don't look too happy.

but when have you seen the Amish look too happy?

smiling on the inside, i suppose.

good people -- they'll dress your deer for $35.

i didn't kill a deer. so off we go.

tail-lights fading, shrinking, condensing.

then gone.

just like that.

a memory.

mandia and the pips

no, i was not high.

Gray Eagle

gave me this -- he's a Vietnam Vet.

'gives you peace,' he said.

'thank you,' i replied.

an old city

it's an old city, la crosse.

old and cold. dive bars line the strip and the road is brick; cracked and gummy.

but it's a nice place.
above the bars are large rooms.
some for rent. others abandoned.
red lights under red umbrellas.
and when people look @ you, they aren't scowling.
mostly smiles, mostly.
i walked around a bit -- it was night, checked my 'six.'
ALL CLEAR
kept plodding on brick.
passing bar after bar -- watching the people inside.
and in the bars, these old gin joints, there were...Women.
few blokes.
but Women.
odd because in San Pedro (that's where i'm from) the dive bars are mostly filled with men.
mostly.
on occasion a black transexual.
she goes by 'tina-for-free-ah.'
she hasn't been seen since 2003.
-- just before the war.
nevertheless, downtown La Crosse seems like my kinda haunt.
five bucks gets you a never-ending mug of frosty booze.
pabst blue ribbon.
don't knock it, especially in Wisconsin.
but it's been a long day.
a long back-breaking day.
discs definitely distressed.
jacuzzi a must. twenty minutes max.
then rest.
good rest in an old city named La Crosse.

WI, 2010

off to Wisconsin under gray sky.

an echo chamber.

tankers slow today, but you can hear them, still.

when the car stereos aren't vibrating my windows.

the VA Creative Arts Fest 2010. hosted in La Crosse, WI.
friend of mine; Mike McCann, collaborated on a short film -- we won the gold.

drama writing...or something like that.
should prove interesting.
lots of Vets.
lots of stories.

mostly true.

from California

just a normal day

@ the compound.

the black and white ones are called, barred rock.

and the big tan thing, that's a tortoise.

too short

but i had to come back.

here's some pix...enjoy with a fine pinot noir.

update soon.