Posts Tagged ‘East Van’

Of course I am grateful for Empire
For the endless concrete roads
All leading from my East Van home
All rolling under the wheels of my longboard
the engineering of my landyatch
the shifting of its’ trucks
the whisper as it eats distance

Grateful I am not trapped in a machine
I have agency
I can roll anywhere
Kick off the street
Even after the Empire crumples
I will kick off concrete for years
Decades until the asphalt cracks
Long after the gas guzzlers are paralyzed

Wind cradles me like the worlds’ love
as if I am a thing of physics
a member of nature
for I can stop
and strap my machine to my back
as if I were a cyborg
and I wear my machine on the outside
rather than the drivers
who are spewed out of their vehicles
when the Empire is down with them

the difference between us
I use the roads Rome built
knowing Rome will fall for its’ sins
mad respect
for the leaders poisoned by power
while the driver’s dream of unearned millions
undeserved power
and scream at the other vehicles

I give way
like water
find the lowest point
settle
and let the world shape me
it’s whims
a breeze
brushing up against my humility

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The snow looks beautiful on the mountains
over-looking Vancouver
Some guy is yelling about demons on the street
He is screaming out his pain
About how nobody will help him
I walk by with my hood up

I walk by because everybody else does
If I was Jesus I would stop and heal him
Good thing they cured the Jesus out of me
At the hospital

Good thing my dealer is out of Jesus powder

I go to a busy McDonalds and order breakfast
from a machine
I sit down among old Asian men chatting in Mandarin
I guess it could be Cantonese
I wait for order 1025
I try to remember being ten
Or being twenty-five

I realize I am the age Jesus died
Next year I will have lived longer than he ever did
Good thing I am not him
Not him at all