and then our exile

were there more snow i would consider skiing tonight. the moon full and orange, shadows on snow, and the incredible romance of skiing solitary on backcountry trails, winter night under the stars.

excerpts.
-

there were portents
in unquiet nights.
of whorls of flame
in convulsions of light!
tremulous fire-tracings
on detonating peaks
where, the last embers
from the day's effacement
glow on
frosted panes of nights
efflorescent with light.
- p.pasha, holocaust.

the biggest crime
is just to throw up your hands
say
this has nothing to do with me
i just want to live as comfortably as i can
- a.difranco, willing to fight.

covering blossoms of memory with
raw earth this red dust caking images
that gaping people-shadows half
wonder if rust murmur oh my word and
common litanies when their fingers shed Midas:
that was genesis...
- biqbal oct04