Thursday, January 19, 2012

Whilst I twiddle my thumbs

we speak words
                (skittering dances upon slightly moistened lips)
winged words that take flight
leaving behind our gently used, yet discarded,
and as the river stares our glances skim atop its taut surface
sending waves and reflections outwards
towards the edges, implications, left behind
like portraits in an ashtray.

Often, he'd see the memories of her
floating as broken habits do
glittering in the dappled sunlight,
one would land upon the lee
of his lip, take flight again
on the backs of winged words,
breathless and squinting
he'd see them grow faint

Sunday, January 15, 2012


I like cities but just as much don't care about cities.  They crumble easily like something else...civilization.  However, once in a while a pretty cool, unique, unlike any other city city comes along, and you shrug your shoulders, grit your teeth from the bone jarring streets, drink a bit too many drinks after a hurricane, and find yourself saying "Who dat", cause you in New Orleans.

New Orleans, where the french, the Canadian french, free'd blacks, Europeans, Spanish, etc etc etc all blend together in the food, language and music.  And for this bike tourer, a bunch of friends, shiny new bike parts, and some time off the saddle.

That's all from the Big Easy.  Whenever I end up leaving, I'll actually head a bit west before heading north to reach the Natchez Trace Parkway in Mississippi, across the state into Alabama, and then south to Mobile before entering Florida.  Onwards and upwards.

Monday, January 9, 2012

Creoles, Cajuns and Gators...oh my

Upon re-entering the United States from the republic of Texas, I found that I had inadvertently gone to yet another country.  This one called Louisiana.  Here, they speak at times a strange language, refugees from the cold northern Quebec they once called home.  The forests are all flooded, the rice paddies grow craw fish instead of rice, and they don't have counties here, they have Parishes.

The Gulf of Mexico

Sunrise on a foggy morning

one dead gator
I'm halfway to New Orleans, where a small break in biking will take place, friends will be meet, Hurricanes will be drank, revelry shall be had, a great river shall be crossed (Mississippi) and best and needed of all, Eddy will be getting a nice makeover.  He's gone over 6,000 miles since his last, and well, he's looking a little haggard.  Take a look at some photos (more as always at and see you all in the Big Easy.
sunset on the bayou