Sometimes, I leave the screen window open to circulate air in this confined, yet sufficiant living space. I throw some bread in the toaster, (toaster came with the contract) and laugh at the odd sounds of mange cats fighting like raggity gladiators behind old rusty sheds and street alley's. What the is that ??????????? The same damn mange cats, thier fur matted and patchy from the acid rain. Sometimes ill walk to the corner store in the late quiet hours, and see them tapper across the half lit streets little mange shadows under searing neon signs and high rise towers.

Old man next store getting up to huck a lugie, lit on soju, blaring late night slap stick on the tube. Huming a Korean folk tune lighting a cigarette, hacking. Sometimes, on the humid nights the smells from the outside permiate into my apartment. On the good nights, food from the surrounding kitchens, garlic, chile, marinated meat laughing korean families. On the bad ones, moldy trash, stale puddles, mange cats, homeless guy draggin his drunk feet on the cracked road.

I dig it.

Tonight, after a tedious day of teaching Korea's youth how to speak english. I came home opened the window, threw some peanut butter on the toast, and heated up some water for a Yerba Mate 'that infamous Argentine magic', I have been sipping that stuff for years, since my wonder stint which started 6 years ago....I drink it every single day...and my life is tied up in it....all those places all those miles...all the faces....the only consitant thing in my life has been the routine of heating water and drinking this bitter, concoxtion(sp)



Drank it while, I woke up at the dawns, frost on my cloaths, my sleeping pack, my puffy jacket patched up with duck tape. My nostrals searing from the frozen dry high altitude air. 10 hours work day, dirty job ...... thirsty? no big deal stick your head in the stream and drink it ....

10 hours a day on the trail, cutting, moving, cutting, breaking, lifting, cutting, ..........................


"Late night sheep creek hot springs by the river stick your tired bones in it ... river isn't just white noise."

"It is not an illusion ... pandorosa pine tree's are big .... when you go out to take a piss ... shine your light on that one by the boulder .... it'll spook you..."



Monolithic rock formations brown hint of rust hue rising from the vast colorado platau. Turn on 191 past Monticello then gun it to Moab ...... Watch the land change....wake up before the sunrises....look out and see silouttes of beast frozen in stone.

I drank it next to a Warning Moose Crossing sign, .... "Don't leave tonight ... to many moose real hazard in these parts ay" .......... "Where are we, Ontario? we ask ourselves ...."I do not know I do not care I say Fuck it .. lets got to Vancouver ...."

Drank it while, I was waking up to Mexican talk radio, steamy breath, warm hosts, hot meal, before the chilly walk to the adobe neon green school ... bathroom never worked and the wind always picked up dust that scraped your face ... got into your eyes ... smell of pig shit .. ever had goat meat? it taste like shit ............ believe it or not Mexican winters are cold ...... nothing a little wood in the tins, stove couldn't do. heat the room ... vamos .... ninos ... vamos el profe gringo is here to teach you english.

Hot shower, my head out the window breathing in listen to the cold, fresh chilean rain,... Got a pot boiling on the stove mate 'made, salmon cut, clams steamed, wine bottle empty ....

"ohhhhh Buenos Aires....im choking in steak and and drowning malbec and fernet, che' can you pack a mate' cup tilt it slightly, and throw the bambill in, and pour in a lil hot water..pass it around.......its only 11 ......we not coming home till 8am...maybe I will crash on a park bench.."