Impending

 

 

 

Driving south on 101 past the silt of San Jose,

Leapfrogging around monster trucks and family vans,

The mountains drawn like an ovulation chart,

Beyond the flat bed valley,

And I’m testing cruise control.

 

Faster.

Slower.

“At any time you may exit cruise control by pressing on the brake pedal.”

I am proud to say I have driven 67.5 miles without using the brake

Often at great risk to myself, not to mention others.

 

A sign grabs my eyes at the side of the highway:

“Easy catch trout.”

I think, at first, it’s some sort of promotion.

Maybe Odwalla. They believe in philosophy

And truth in advertising.

Then I see it is a real place.

There’s a parking lot.

 

Many are stopping.

I almost hit a large, silver family van with eight adults inside

All appearing to be wearing the same beanie with a propeller on top.

I have to admit

I hit my brake.

I hate a cheater.

 

Imagine, I think,

No sport whatsoever.

What images come to mind.

Always an opportunist I think:

Easy catch love. No hooks, catch and release, no mouth wounds.

Easy catch money. Spend it on anything and your life will change.

Easy catch health. No guesswork or lengthy procedures.

And then, of course, easy catch death.

When the time is right just come on down and die.

Right there. Simple.

 

 

 

 

 

 

IV.