Monday, 11 May 2009

  • about this weekend

    enough sun to burn my nose during an afternoon at the park, a stiff breeze, the sand of a shuffleboard table underneath my fingernails, his collection of Sierra Nevada bottles, seven shot glasses stacked atop the bar. a water bottle waved in the mosh pit, sore calves, the hot lights of the stage, a ringing in my ears. knocking on the car windows to try to wake him up. a freshly-baked batch of cookies.

    deer steaks. ring sausage. burgers and stuffed mushrooms. third stone brown. horseshoes in the growing shade, frisbee in the cornfield, three-on-three against a rusted-out backboard. a fire that burns for twelve hours and wilts the trees. a snoring that just won't stop. sunshine wheat. a last-second three that seals the deal. a quickly-aborted search-and-rescue mission. a lost pair of sunglasses. a long, starry night full of moon and smoke and devoid of sleep.

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