A bit of babble flow after Kerouac

Fall                                                                     Samhain Moon

listen the quiet surround me buzzing in my ears a bit of hard drive back up whir and shift that oceanic feeling of the yard and teh sky and the north behind me a sense that i Don’t sit here but everywhere, a point, not a line, no particular place though planted here I could also be there where the lift bridge rises and the fog horn sounds or where the Mississippi babbles small brookish out of the old Lake Itasca where Schoolcraft became a student of the head waters which water the head and make us all wet, yet hydrated, not dried out but nourished and ready to grow, growing up in this northern land where the sun rises and sets half way to the north pole where we know we are closer to the north pole than the rest of America below us in particular, for example, Georgia with those peach and pecan orchards and the stars and bars and the sound of NASCAR revving, internal combustion sound music, not annoying sound, but beautiful, wound up and spinning around the track we go up to Washington DC where the white and the marble and the monuments and the documents, the talking and collaborating, the glad-hands and false smiles mean work, work of the people.  Work.