Early morning — not yet too hot and not too cold either. I decided to bounce my way off-road so I could get some alone time. Once parked, I got outta my truck and wandered a few feet to the south. I was jus’ below a rise and I wanted to see what was beyond…

far open places empty blue skies dramatic thunderstorms sage brush to pinon pine dusty, dirt roadways mountains, sand, rocks wild herds of mustang milky-way at midnight it is good to be alone

I narrowly avoided the Call of Cthulhu by letting it go to voice mail.

They never saw his nose twitch at the smell of the newly turned piles of dirt. What they did see was a grown man join his three dogs as all four rolled in the brown earth till absolutely covered in moist loam and happiness. The cops said they weren’t breaking any laws.

Written in July 1972. For being only 11 or 12, I think I was a little obsessed with my hometown and death… Mouth of the Klamath, fog rolls in from the sea My desire lives beyond the tallest redwood tree. Too far have I traveled, so much have I seen, Heights of the mountain, the…

Returning from the North Coast, I took the longer route home. Crossing over the pass, I decided I wanted a beer and I quickly found a bar. The couple in the corner were British, their brogues echoed every time the house band fell silent. I ordered a second beer, knowing I should be home already.…

“No one really cares.” That’s my leading comment when it comes to deciding what I’d like to write about…

Spanish Springs area, Northern Nevada, July 13, 2019… Light shift, yellow, orange, Darkening the already dark Rooms behind the curtains. Effects noticeable and now. Wild land fire, burning hill South, moving northbound. So much dense gray smoke And very little information. Voluntary evacuations, the Services moving neighbor To neighbor, door by door Those red globes…

“The backyard feels so cluttered,” she said, staring out the back window. “It’s a simple procedure and I’ll be right there, holding you hand, while you’re having it done,” he said. “Clean up is a breeze, you said?” “Your avoiding the subject.” “Not really. I’m talking about clutter – so are you — aren’t you?”…

She was not dressed as a traditional Paiute or Shoshone woman; she was dressed plainer. More leather, no beads, no shells, no fringe, no make-up. Her demeanor was friendly, though we never spoke, she did smile, so did I. I sat on the rock, watching as she trouped quickly, quietly and deftly by and up…