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This is my second or third attempt at a"blog" as it is.  The first two had horrendous names.  I don't know, is this one any better?  I feels catchier?  My 5 year old nephew came up with it.  After I kicked his ass in Madden.  I wrote a poem highly influenced by Gary Snyder:

Centered Around What?

We took the ten plus year old truck around University Lake last night

trying to get a better view of Jupiter and Venus hugging within a 

finger's touch of the moon.

Between us we had just enough hopes and dreams to keep the cold night out.

White egrets circled their nest trees under the new moon,

squawking and making noises like old men playing bridge.

Great blue herons were just visible,

only because I had seen them earlier from my bicycle, and knew the

preferred the high branches of Cyprus trees

"We could make a fire when we get home," I said, resting my hand on her knee.

She just smiled at me, her funny laugh love smile.

"We could paint our faces?"

This got no reaction, she was more into the cold nite air than my silly jokes.

We drove home through black skies and grey clouds, counting our lucky hearts

that we had finally found a part of December that wasn't shit and piss.