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Laughin Wolf

david edwards

david edwards
San Francisco, California, USA
June 29
Laughin Wolf
"retired" from gettin duh facts to focus on FictionFilmTheater, more truth there.On the road now but still writing a monthly letter for my little towns great indie paper and no matter how long away will be engaged in conversation bout my writin


APRIL 24, 2012 5:18PM

The Tour NOW, late April 2012

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   Feel the footfalls of the gaurds racing our way, hear their dogs, but we're almost to the wall,  my heart flits about my chest pounding for a way out, a steady buzz in my head like a low constant siren and then ...

   We are over the wall but it is just endless lanes of traffic, is it my groan or the earth's I feel, hear. Like that the last day this way too long gig.

    I want go back to sleep see Al again at the window, shocking as it was.

    Have almost lost it more then once,  a kindly women, open face sits with me in the soup kitchen, just wanting to do good, she is of one those silly religions, but I don't care. The lonliness of my body is like some animal I've never seen, feel it cracking my bones, bloating my belly. Just want this silly woman take my face in her hands float us away, away all this noise and caos,"my beat", settle us under a big shade tree, place my head in her lap and stroking my broww over and over murmur "you poor man".

    Feel I've rolled into a trap, this freeway kulture and something will go awry, money or cops or the wheel not right and in this twitchy state must find some spot amid the endless empy square footage.

    Over two months ago I am rolling toward my city and something happens, a change, not sure the milepost, like Las Angles has spread up the coast and I've speed through some noxious cloud right into it.

    I know I will die one more night without the dark, go insane another morning no silence.

     But in the end  the wheel is there and  the BOB is hooked back up to Starcock7.0 and for two days am shifting weight, lightening the load, wish it so easy to loose the pounds weighoing on my knees, ankles, heart. The long winter service, the stress and fear of those I attempt serve, alcohol and sweets, traditional treatments turn right to fat, greive fat And I eat and eat, shovel it in and am still hungry and I know what it is to be an American.

Author tags:

cycling, travel, politics, journalism

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