before my severe bulging disc-osteophyte i never understood rv’s, those people who drive through the grand tetons without actually hiking the trails, like the 90% of yosemite visitors who don’t leave the paved paths, but as my anterolisthesis continues to slip, i view life differently, i now see wheelchairs & sitting people, i never assume anything anymore, i used to think non-walkers were lazy, that not standing was weak, why drive when you can run? walk? bike? now i cry when watching documentaries about disabled people, my people, my new story, i used to hike miles and miles with my son, now i barely walk at all, but i can still drive down highway 1, pacific coast, alongside surf, crashing waves, seals, pelicans, whales, you get the drift, the past is over, no time machine is coming to get me, like fugazi said, you can’t be what you were, so you better start being, just what you are, so now i drive, there is beauty in the drive.
When I Sued Sting
enough of the englishman in new york, ashtanga practicing, burning man partygoer, king of pain pretty boy, $300 million from universal music for his whole catalogue in 2022, as if he did it alone, ‘77-’84, i was there, on guitar, his vocals only went so far, a friend saw him in chile w/james taylor, 1994, dodgy performance, truly, taylor blew him away, not even close, ok, sure, roxanne, just a drinking game really, i will concede message in a bottle, strong song, but every breath you take was mine, not just his, he says i got paid in 2016, but the serious money came in later, ok, i probably don’t deserve a penny, but gimme.
Pillar Point Harbor
The Pacific Coast journey continues! Today we kayaked in the Pillar Point Harbor. Seals & sea lions were everywhere! Lunch was at La Costanera (Peruvian).
Seal Cove Trees
The Pacific Coast journey continues! Today we made it to Seal Cove Beach. This is a very mellow spot to swim.
When The Moon Spoke
don’t talk to me about cat stevens, i’m not following anyone, except the earth i guess, but don’t blame gravitational pull on me, i’m not here to illuminate your first kiss, that is love’s domain, craters aren’t my fault either, malicious kamikaze asteroids, neil armstrong’s one small step tickled, glad he & the other boys left, scarred me with their flag, took pieces of me, worthless rocks really, like whiskers shaved off in the sink, i will take credit for the tides, those undulating liquid waves, curling, crashing, little surfers smashing, love when they get barreled, even more when they wipeout, don’t trust my words, after all, i don’t care, you can stare up at me all you want, make your own meaning, i’m nothing without you.
Murmur of Pianos
mozart touched tusks, how often did he think about trunks, thick brownish-gray skin, when alive they reached out to one another, comforted, said hello, intelligent creatures, emphasis on creatures, hunted by the hundreds of thousands, dead after gunshot, 4-bore rifles held by money, by music, status symbol, steinway, chickering, must have a baby grand, or an upright in church, pray for the dead animals, they are the keys that ring out, beethoven’s moonlight sonata, chopin’s nocturne in e-flat major, tchaikovsky’s nutcracker suite, you name it, such beauty, haunting beauty, listen closely enough & you can hear their demise.
Drunkards of Honduras (1993)
the roadkill don’t have fur, they aren’t even dead yet
early sunday morning and the streets are littered with corpses
pulses intact, mouths askew
unnatural drool-like vomit in puddles under snoring faces
men with white shirts & straw farmer hats tumbled aside
menial labor temporarily forgotten
they litter the curbs & streets
cars & horses swerve to miss these alcoholic speed bumps
this happens every weekend in gracias, honduras
aptly named, thank you for such imagery
a reminder of how beer & guaro can waste a life
leave it limp on concrete
Mori Point
We are exploring the California Coast from Ocean Beach, San Francisco, to San Diego. Today we visited Mori Point, then swam at Linda Mar Beach.
When I Met Hemingway
tell me about the time you met Ernest Hemingway, sure, i was a fencer, prodigy, too strong? he had heard about my riposte skills, fighter, he was, you could tell, mostly with staccato sentences, had a bottle, always tucked into his sports jacket, whisky of whatever sort, we were in alicante, long copper top bar, anyway, he was curious, listened well, slurred his words, still wanted to learn, i was young, impressed with his name, hemingway, like a british rainstorm, a small torment, wet human, sad inquisitive eyes, could you sense how he would end? this was a few years before ketchum, before, well, you know, and no, i couldn’t surmise, it was the 50’s, eisenhower, golf, before sylvia plath, anyway, i thought he’d live forever, i guess he kinda did.
Tiktoker Watches TikTok
stare, keeping staring, so cute, my little wiggle smile, perfect timing with that clothing/music change, they will love me, they do love me, do they? eye roll, you know, that i know, all that rizz in sixteen seconds, i’m going viral, will i go viral? do they care? wait a couple minutes, check how many likes, keep checking, i’m gonna be famous, i’m not obsessed, i’m obsessed.
Daniel W. Polk 