The Subtle Knot

The celestial machine twisted and did thread the subtle knots else some knots comfort us but turn out to be diversions as to what is really going on. Writers speak to Identity. But Identity is dust. We are all the same author. Bells toll for slaves in the sad of…

Dirt Bikes Are Loud & It’s Okay

The past is nothing more than a point on the space time continuum. The coven had always been south of the South Pol. Some people say there are no more witches, and no more covens. What do you think Antifa is. Antifa was before the big bang. Before there was…

Mainly, You Feel the Power of the Bike Through Your Hands

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TIM BARRUS, NEW YORK TIMES I DID NOT SPEAK OF DESIRE Village life, and trade it in for life on a dirt bike. Everything I own fits into one canvas camera bag. If it won’t fit in the bag, I don’t need it. The dirt bike takes me places I…

RUSTEDJUNKERDIRTBIKES

Andrew and I have been buying rusted junker dirt bikes (sometimes people pay us to take them away) and fixing them up, and then selling them. We had to buy some new tools. Riding the 150s in the snow is definitely a rush.

The Only Time

the only time in my fatigued, hollow-eyed life/ that i have ever felt good about or exhilerated/ to be living my life – another world for a threadbare existence – such as a gaunt survival deteriorates like radiation leaves a telltale trail of half-lives wrung out, and drained was when…

Moving Through the Fog Like Thieves

I drive through the fog on my big black bike. It’s a lot like sex at all the straining angles. Cutting through the Blue Ridge fog, we become less and less. Glowing in the dark around a bend. Leaning into the shadows of the moon. We slept like cards in…