Moose Lake

Big Trout & Bad Weather

You make it look like
something they want to eat
and then you eat
them

Gone But Not Forgotten

He had a column
called Underwear
the chief publicist
must have shut him down
for lack of pornographic content
I thought about burning my T
in honor
but opted not
as it may be a worthy trade
for a cold beer
one day.

Adios

she slipped away
we parted as I gave her one last make over
she ran off with a man from the low land
so she'll feel at home down by the rivers edge
and I'll hear her cry as she passes
it was certainly a love hate relationship

The fish are calling

Rain, wool pants and the last cigar
catching raindrops on my sox and a buzz in my ear.
Headed for the mountains and lakes
first to cut down some mighty trees
and roll some weeds.

It's All In the Water

Jack was making home brew, it was cheaper and better than off the shelf. The first batch came off without a hitch, so he headed back up Bishop's side of the valley for more mountain water. When Jack got to the spot where the road widened he could see something laying in the the creek bed, as he came nearer he recognized Bishop laying face up and pissing into the air. "What the hell are you doing?" Bishop was literally pissed drunk and singing as he lay in the shallow stream pissing. "Pissing in the wind", Bishop replied. "Well that's my water source for the home brew and now it ain't fit to wash in". "Suit yourself, just thought I'd sweeten the taste a little"

Today

Rain and rainbows and wind blows a coffee stone in the morning.
Old pants with patches and blanket stitches call from the bottom of the pile.
A day as young as baby skin when the pants wore holes in the knees.

A Michi for JD

There was two cold beers when we got home, I thought "That's great Jerry's always up for a Michi". Kelsey's song "Gone" plays in my mind, Sambo's forehead print on the door glass reaches for Japhy and Sue's coffee mate wont start a fire. Like the hail that fell and melted, our early summer rendez-vous has past.

Out West

Where the trucks haul shake blocks
and the hillbillies drink home brew
where towns have been flooded
for government reward.
Where darkness falls early
with failing light
it's hard to shoot road signs
through the likes of one eye.

Gerrard Trout

They are difficult to pull from a photo
but they exist.
20 to30 inches a piece
jumping and splashing.
This years run totals 1000.
They live deep in the wild
where soil is so rich
it once grew gold.

Headed West Again

Time comes to a head
the river calls my name
fresh water for the home brew.
Blood in my veins
moves me to the mountains
music brings me to myself.
Solitude in my cereal bowl
floats the current
pulling me upstream
lost in an eddy of time
with rain on the stoop
and a clouded sky.

Up the Creek

Not a bight, but the lake offered sight of Bishop's old canoe. Jack hadn't seen him in a while nor had Bishop's wife, there was rumour of bishop rowing upstream to an old cabin on the rivers edge where he kept secrets. A candle light the din of the cabin, cards lay on the pine wood table and Bishop held tight to a 5th of whiskey. He knew his cover was broke and they would be surrounding the old cabin in no time, he was spinning and grinning and welcomed the joust. Jack saw the dust cloud just behind the cabin and heard the whinny of horses, their guns were loaded as was Bishop's and when the candle was blown out Jack knew Bishop would prevail.

Jack's Last Dance

Jack came home for his friends wedding reception, it would be good, he hadn't ate well in months. The hall was filled with old friends, food and booze. Jack was thinner than he had been in years. Toasted ketchup and Ichiban soup his main staple. A couple of old skanks Jack had screwed years prior, were lingering like stale smoke. Jack was filling himself on free whiskey and ham and cheese sandwiches when the prettier of the two came to sell their wares, Jack grabbed at a hand full of ass cheek that had fallen from its keeper and slid his finger in just enough to taste a smell. That warranted a slap in which Jack lost a mouth full of ham and cheese. So he snuck a whiff of his finger and ordered another drink. Soon skank # 2 was buttering his bread and ordering his whiskeys. Jack stumbled off the tables with his untucked white shirt soaking up spilt drinks blowing kisses of chewed bits at the lovelies. Soon the food was being packed away and skank #2 had a firm grip on Jack's crotch, he followed her to her beat up Maverick and she whisped his drunken stupor home to her condemned palace of pleasure. She lit candles and lay a bed spread on the floor, she was a romantic and Jack was a horn dog with a bone, he thought he would make it simple and went for it from the top side with vision through one eye, one maybe two strokes into it, he belched from deep within, then as he tried tried hold back he came like a volcano erupting ham and cheese all over her hair. It was a bloody mess but Jack had not had sex in quite some time either, so he kept on stroking until he collapsed in her puke covered hair, four or maybe five strokes later.

Pushing the Season

Nothing like a shower in the rain
nothing like a work day without pain
nothing like a beer that never ends
or a friend that never dies
nothing like the day that wakens from a sleep
or the realization that
there's no need to weep.

She's the One

I've never hopped a train
but
I've been run over by a car.
I've never had the monies
to pay
room and board
but I've slept
with a Queen.
Some guys have it all.

Eggs In The Fridge

HS Thompson used to do it
but he had great breakfasts
someone eles used to do it too
but
I can't remember who
they most likely drank for breakfast
and me
I forgot where the eggs hid in the fridge
It's been some time since I had something to say.
I'd buy a guitar
but I don't know how to play.
and I hate poetry that rhymes

The Last Fall

Jack's elbow ached when he bent his arm
it was the fall from the tall bed
that and falling on the blacktop alleyway
or perhaps when he fell from his chair
onto the tile floor in the kitchen last fall.
He was agitated
was it the dead squirrel
was it the drunken neighbouress
bumming beers
or too much caffeine/
No hard booze for two weeks
may be the cause.
Bettering himself
or
self abuse?

Reacquaintance

Bishop stopped by for some octopi
straight from the can
he bent his ear
and drank two beer
and left with a stogie
in his hand.

It had been some time
but they both
had a lot to say
Bishop smiled and laughed,
lit his cigar and
walked away.

April Walk

The Juniper berries
in early April
make the forest
smell like
cat piss.

Back Home

With a three day hang over on it's way out, Jack reaches for the sun; it's not there.
Bishop has been planting the seed, sparking interest in the wilderness, a place Jack has been far from.
With clouds lingering, Jack reaches for his rubber boots and hat,
through a clouded sky Jack searches for clarity.

Sandpoint

Sandpoint
Sadie takes our order
the neon "open"
sign
struggles
to shine
as
the sun
has yet to fall
The band
from
Seattle
so I drink
Canadian whiskey
The liquor store
the video store
and the street cleared of
snow fall
cars pass slow
on the
one way street
where mothers
in wool
and toques
and scarves
push children
in upscale
hippie strollers.
Cody with
rhythm in his head
and the man
in the black vest
bends harp
and he's gunna
give me what I want
right now
in the aftermath
of jealousy
of a soaked soul
in kerosene
It's fertilizer
and coke
all in one line
and piss
drips
beneath the urinal
and it's feels
alright tonight
as I hack lyrics
and smile
into a mugshot
and put gasoline
down the gullet
and baby
you shouldn't be out alone
Some hack writer
may find you out
cold in an old coat
and something
to believe in
something to shelter
from the cold wind
A hack writer
stealing words
before they lay down
like an old man
with a wooden leg
with no money
and little to change.