Mostly my thoughts are just what I am doing at any given moment, no introspection, no hand-wringing over existence, zero nostalgia for better times, no lust for life. It is just, Here I go rolling out of bed, pouring me a black one (coffee), vodka under the counter, taking the cure, Harry is my body, splashing on me face the agua, step on that scorpion, get the fucker, crunch goes toast, tongue gets crumbs off lips, on with the pants two legs today at one time, adjust the shrunken junk, stand on one leg to fart, tucked no now untucked, click goes the lock, bang goes the door, fingers squeeze the clutch, vroom vroom says the one-fifty, clockwise with the gas, windwise with the hair, pass a semi pass a jeep, past the Super 8, around the long bend, wind in my teeth, hand flips the visor down, now cornering, cornering, lean baby, foot into fifth as we hit kilometer 135, pass a van pass a logger pass an Audi pass a cop, right foot jabs the brake, slips, front wheel strikes the bumper first, flying through the air, I'm flying, I'm flying look mom I'm fly

Colin Gee (@ColinMGee on X) is  founder and editor of The Gorko Gazette. Check out his books: Lips with Anxiety Press, The Penult with LEFTOVER Books, Left in the Lurch with DUMBO Press.