I’m starting to worry about having a job. I don’t mean whether I can find one. I mean whether it was a good idea to find the one I’ve got. I work just three days a week and that seems like not that much until I think THREE OUT OF SEVEN DAYS THAT’S ALMOST HALF and then I start questioning everything. Without the job I make about $250 a month doing my little things I do. Sending people weird emails and making the occasional podcast. I used to make twice that but I gave one of my shows to someone else because if there’s one thing I’ve always been good at it’s financial planning. I mostly don’t watch other van life videos or Instagram accounts anymore but the other day I caught up on one of my favorites and he’s out there climbing mountains and paddling across lakes and I have, like, five polo shirts so I can wear them to work and I wonder if I’ve slid back too far. Right now I’m listening to the rain on the roof of the van and thinking about the loon calls I heard earlier and remembering the smell of the high desert and that time I drove as far as you can drive until you have to start paddling toward Havana and maybe I should go to bed and think about all this tomorrow.
Leave a CommentCategory: Van Life
a light rain falling
bird songs I don’t recognize
: Lake Memphremagog
/ / /
1 August 2021
Eagle Point Wildlife Refuge (VT)
still feeling shaken
by a fleeting glimpse of death
life comes at you fast
/ / /
29 July 2021
Greensboro VT
Buddha beside the highway
US 17 South
near Remington, Virginia
suddenly he’s there
in a glass box as large as a house
looking out serenely over the highway
spotlights above & below
who put him there?
who pays the electric bill?
who knew there’d be a Buddhist
in a van on this of all nights
needing a little reassurance
on the highway?
/ / /
6 July 2021
Greensboro VT
(recalling something I saw early in my van life)
Leave a Commenthe lives in a van
no one thrives in a factory
we need sun on our faces
& snow underfoot
a hundred miles
with the crockpot on low
& some beer in the fridge
up the mountain
write your name
down the mountain, cook
the drone circles the summit
captures his tiny image there
one arm raised, smiling
/ / /
Earth Day 2021
State College PA
for fellow van dweller
Foresty Forest
a poem for myself
I’m driving through Virginia
listening to Tommy Emmanuel
on a playlist I made in different times
I was going to write this poem about you
but I decided to write it about me instead
because I need to take back your space
in my head
you used to say you liked my singing
well I like my singing too
& lots of people could love a weathered guy
who sings “King Of Wishful Thinking”
at the top of his voice
as he passes one semi after another
I’m starting to believe this road
could take me somewhere better
& in any case this is a real good playlist
/ / /
12 April 2021
Verona VA
for me
real Georgia hospitality
the first one brought me to a garage
near a grocery store
the second to a garage
near a few restaurants
one asked if I had a way to heat the van
the other made sure he found me a level place
both got me out of the rain
made sure I was safe
for no other reason than being good people
my friend said people will show you
their humanity once they see yours
he’s right & that’s what I hold onto
when the rain comes
/ / /
10 April 2021
Newnan GA
for my two tow truck drivers
beside the road, a sign:
WRONG DIRECTION?
GOD ALLOWS U-TURNS
suddenly I have tears in my eyes
if only I knew where I was headed
a few miles later the desert opens
pours away like an ocean over the horizon
don’t give your energy to fear, she says
as I have tears in my eyes again
but who will love me, I ask her
there are more things to love than just people
she tells me from a few feet away
(there’s a woodpecker in the trees)
later, driving away, I see it
a flash of white wings as it dips in front of me
I’m headed to a camping spot, alone
later still I build a fire
the rain comes shortly after
my eyes burn from the smoke
///
25 March 2021
Rothrock State Forest
Going Over San Augustin Pass
there’s a moment as the highway curves
when it looks like you’ll disappear
off the end of the Earth
lost in a pale blue sky from which
there is no returning
in the next moment you’re over the pass
spreading out before you is a basin so large
it’s as if the ground and sky switched places
far off in the distance
the pastel shadows of mountains
like an artist’s rendering
/ / /
26 February 2021
near Las Cruces, New Mexico
Hello sailor
Don’t tell me how to lose someone.
I’ve earned this experience.
Some knitting, a watch, a photograph:
through these things I remember.
The blood rises to my cheeks, already red
from genes I no longer trust.
I’m like the ship of Theseus.
How much can I cast away & still be myself?
I try to identify my face in the bathroom mirror
at the grocery store. Those are my eyes,
there’s my crooked nose, that’s the gap between my teeth.
Every seven years all the cells in my body renew.
I set the boat on the water, push it out to sea.
/ / /
13 February 2021
Port Orford, OR
February night —
like static between stations:
the waves in the cove
///
7 February 2021
south of Mendocino CA
Salton Sea Serenade
unknown birds sing a
Salton Sea serenade
as I squish my Crocs
through unexpected mud
later I’ll wash it off
but just for a moment
— right now —
this beach and I are one
Mardi Gras Mambo Renge Kyo!
///
24 January 2021
Niland CA
Thanks to Jim Macnie for the last line.
Leave a Commentwatch cattle grazing
feel my heartbeat start to slow
: a morning lesson
///
22 January 2021
Catalina AZ
Revenge!
Mingus! Dolphy!
Elderly people doing yoga!
Park pavilions full of
downward dogs & the upper class.
The Buick owners realigning their chakras
before heading off to brunch.
Everyone has a dog or else no one does.
There’s ozone in the air but the sun is out.
Where’s the promised thunder?
The desert is a dirty liar.
The bass clarinet will have to do.
///
21 January 2021
Oro Valley, AZ
sunshine, wild horses
“you’ll for sure poop in your van”
: Ironwood Forest
/ / /
16 January 2021
Ironwood Forest National Monument
Arizona