Probably Childhood.

A particular street.

The mountains, the ocean.

Buildings and asphault.

Happiness, anger, sadness, madness,


Fire everyday, savory breakfast only.

Awkward handshakes.

Best friends displaced,

old friends reinforced,

new friends ignored.

Nothing important or radical,

just a touch pad to keep occupied.

Good oldies to take it all back.

Bad food at good places,

Giving kids the permission to cuss.

A work story that choked me up.

When a dog sleeps, let it lie.

A disdain for politics, but the president made me laugh out loud.

A rock in my shoe,

a back scratcher with no back.

An arrow in my drawings,

a go to,  

a lie.



stuff like that.