Volcano Thoughts; final.

I can't stop mixing feelings with volcano thoughts
and sometimes you need to vomit before you can get cuisine.

Night ride I
down tree vaulted asphalt of Martin Luther King Jr Drive.
Headlights of cars passing too close flash and blur in my mini rear-view,
but my aluminum tubes, carbon-reinforced fork, and steely resolve
carry me as I ride on.
And as I ride
before me rises an artificial sunrise
ambient glow of millions of street lights,
the LED sprinkled city skyline,
and my wheels spinning rpms some sixty.
The moon casts its reflection on the rain flecked street.

Outliers of tree branches hang overhead,
to my left the Schuylkill River's riparian zone,
and mixed among the foliage and sculpted meadow-lands
wild geese and goslings'
goose droppings brown black and white
heavy scattered among the grass and on and along the pathway.

But on this night
I who choose the road also avoid
headless geese carcasses deeply genuflecting on the bike route.

Volcano Thoughts; draft #4

I can't stop mixing feelings with volcano thoughts
and sometimes you need to vomit before you get cuisine.

Night ride I
down tree vaulted asphalt
Martin Luther King Jr Drive.
Headlights flash and blur in my mini rear-view
cars passing too close,
but my aluminum tubes, carbon-reinforced fork, and steely resolve
carry me as I ride on,
the glow of city lights and the LED sprinkled city skyline
rising to the South ahead of me and to the left,
wheels spinning some sixty rpms
on this river side ride
of quiet empty miles:
moon casts reflections on the rain flecked street;
forest hangs overhead;
and to my left mixed among the damp thirst for hunger of foliage
upon the Schuylkill river's riparian zone
wild geese and goslings
and goose droppings brown black and white,
piled high on and along the grass and pathway.
And I who choose the road avoid
mutilated rotting geese carcasses deeply genuflecting on the bike route.

Mixing feelings with volcano thoughts; draft #3

I can't stop mixing feelings with volcano thoughts
and sometimes you need to vomit crap before you get cuisine.

Night ride I
down tree vaulted asphalt of Martin Luther King Jr Drive.
Headlights flash and blur in my mini rear-view
cars passing too close,
but my aluminum tubes, carbon reinforced fork, and steely resolve
keep my company close as I ride on,
wheels spinning some sixty rpms on this river side ride
empty miles
the moon casting reflections in the rain flecked street
and the forest hanging overhead to the right
while on the left
mixed among the damp thirsted hunger of foliage upon the riparian zone
and the wild
geese and goslings and goose shit piling high on and along the grass and pathway:
but I who choose the road avoid gutted
mutilated rotting geese carcasses deeply genuflecting on the bike route.

Mixing Feelings With Volcano Thoughts; draft #2

I can't stop mixing these feelings with volcano thoughts
and sometimes you need to vomit crap onto the paper before you get cuisine.

Night ride I
down tree vaulted asphalt of Martin Luther King Jr Drive.
Headlights flash and blur in my mini rear-view
cars passing too close
but my aluminum reinforced tubes and steely resolve keep me riding on,
the wheels spinning by on this river side ride
of empty miles of moon reflected rain flecked
street forest hanging overhead to the right
while scattered trees mixed with non-native invasives upon the riparian zone
and the wild
geese and goslings and goose shit piling high on and along the grass and pathway:
but I who choose the road avoid gutted
mutilated rotting geese carcasses deeply genuflecting on the bike route.

Mixing Feelings With Volcano Thoughts; draft #1 (from Random Pieces)

I can't stop mixing feelings with volcano thoughts
and sometimes you need to vomit crap out onto the paper before you can get cuisine:
digestive system in reverse.

Late night ride down tree vaulted asphalt
Martin Luther King Jr Drive:
headlights running me down, cars passing by too close for most
but aluminum reinforce tubing and steal resolve keeps on riding.
Miles pass by on this river ride,
trees stand scattered across Fairmount Park
punctuated by pavement for parking
as non-native species creeping up and tearing down trees
wild
geese and goslings and goose shit piling high in and along the grass and pathway:
but I who choose the road avoid gutted
mutilated rotting geese carcasses deeply genuflecting on the bike route.