Tag Archives: on the road

WELCOME TO TEXAS

Brass on brown paper

juxtaposed with an unlikely six hour jazz session on a straining static and likely below-the-radar bible-belt FM station             and the featureless August midnight blacktop and black backdrop beyond my headlights on route 30 outside of Jonesborough          it’s a lonely straight-through stretch from Little Rock to the Texas border just southwest of Hope

even lonely (maybe because of) the jazz stuck in some recess                 names escape me             quiet incessant soft saxbasspianocornettrumpetsnare lowing               their mellow walk in my mind’s corner             flutter flow flight figure follow satisfied to play and wait             sit-in and play to the empty bar save for the one man in the suit and loose tie           eyes closed and harmonizing with his thin rocks glass and the sad woman in the midnight blue strapless             slow turn and sway and wish             heels on the empty dance floor

the jazz stuck as most all things do           and the road kept on             sunrise caught me somewhere between Hope and the border             I read the sign in its lone star largess                jazz and dawn aching through

the crazy riff of sage and red-eyed 80 miles per hour

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Filed under Poetry, The road

1.6 MILES FROM LAGUARDIA

automatic traffic planes whine below city sound city life even in almost single-digit daylight still busy full moving this is Friday another thought another song just over the bridge empty off-ramp subway stop overhead aimed uptown balconies stacked low-rent high-rise geometry lesson the humanity of park benches and concrete checker games abandoned devoid of banter spoken in worn corduroy cigars dice and singles styrofoam coffee cups huddled in corners alleys chain-link pick-up games collars turned to Battery Park cold front squalling this road is potholes brake lights black-on-orange graffiti from 1986 tired NYPD on patrol my heater on low songs that feel like the answer to prayers close enough to share the same shadow

Eastbound

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Filed under Poetry, The road

ALIVE ON ARRIVAL

this road begs a truck and a full tank of gas   windows down   tire-tread serenade   humidity and cool 4 a.m. headlights   bugs on the windshield   life unfolding on long-haul canvas   whitetails from low rolling fog   this all-night mind   this morning is water   truck packed for one or the other   the first spill of purple orange purple   a truck and full tank of gas begs for nothing   when the sun comes up it’ll only be up for so long   fish rising in their own universe   the stars hold what they’ve got   I close my eyes and see a barn and woods   wing-set geese   a river or lake painted into the distant hills   I open them and see fields and a single cow meandering to its day   this morning is woods   I push on

the first spill of purple orange purple   whitetails from low rolling fog   I close my eyes and see a barn and woods   this road begs a truck and a full tank of gas   this morning is water   a river or lake painted into the distant hills   bugs on the windshield   wing-set geese   I open them and see fields and a single cow meandering to its day   life unfolding on long-haul canvas   when the sun comes up it’ll only be up for so long   a truck and full tank of gas begs for nothing   fish rising in their own universe   this morning is woods   humidity and cool 4 a.m. headlights   tire-tread serenade   truck packed for one or the other   the stars hold what they’ve got   windows down   this all-night mind   I push on

I close my eyes and see a barn and woods   I open them and see fields and a single cow meandering to its day   a river or lake painted into the distant hills   the first spill of purple orange purple   wing-set geese   when the sun comes up it’ll only be up for so long   this morning is water   fish rising in their own universe   this morning is woods   whitetails from low rolling fog   truck packed for one or the other   the stars hold what they’ve got   humidity and cool 4 a.m. headlights   windows down   bugs on the windshield   tire-tread serenade   this road begs a truck and a full tank of gas   a truck and full tank of gas begs for nothing   life unfolding on long-haul canvas   I push on

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Filed under Poetry, The road

THE TRIP. THE VIDEO.

One very cool thing about this blog is the fact that my kids, when they’re old enough to appreciate it, will have a pretty exhaustive chronicle of who their dad is – through writing and pictures. I get the biggest kick out of looking at old photos of my parents when they were young and full of promise (translated: before mom was pregnant with me). The best are the backyard BBQ’s – dad in cut-off jean shorts, no shirt and a kick ass mustache. Mom in a tank-top, long hair and always side-lit by sun. I’m happy that my kids will have the same opportunity to get a kick out of my meandering.

On my trip, I was able to go one further than just snapping pics though. I took some video too…and it needs to be mentioned that all the pics and video I took were on my Droid. Freaking cool. So, over the last few evenings, I spent a little time editing some live-action and a handful of stills. I’m not smelling any Emmys, but it’s as true as it gets to the great time I had on the road, game-trails, boulder fields and water with Josh. Enjoy.

Traveling Riverside Blues from Matt on Vimeo.

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Filed under Fatherhood and venison jerkey, On the water