Sunken Dreamers' Almanac: High Winds

 

 

A battles bikes off the turnpike. Coughs graffiti on bathroom stalls in his off hours, stalls the hours getting off with his girlfriend L the freshman. Gnarly since he was knee high, gnarls his knees sky high in the drained pool thrashing flesh until threshed legs beg for bolts, until the sky bolts black & blue. Making art of his scars he swirls scab frescos. Full crash expressionist, dangerous as life without a helmet. All year he is curb-splendor, collision-crafting, bone-grafting: jilted juggernaut in jackknife leather jacket armor. Sputters his propellers all afternoon ditching class, catching ass only to catch hell from the old man who caught news of his routine absence from teacher Q. Finally retires from the old man's roost, tired of the tired lectures he swallows living under his roof. Blowing through red lights his renegade rocket horse slips a shoe, leaving alpha rider sidewalk-docked until careening comes a run amok truck out of the blue.