On the road to Brush Trail

My password expired today,
or so they said,
I was busy reading an article
about Brussel sprouts and
another about the
death of Dylan Thomas.
And another about the Hollywood sign.
There is a hiking trail, just so
you know — Brush Canyon Trail.
It takes you to the sign.
We will hike it someday, you
& me. In better times.
Today I want to
trade a stock that I read about
drinking late one night and the
guy who said the pick was solid
was the same guy who said that :

“All the Gold in California” by
the Gatlin Brothers was the best
fucking song ever written.
I listen to it on my vintage

Walkman, hiking,  mornings near
Mt. Pocono.
Now, we are almost on the trail again.
No cell phones, Sweetie.
No technology.
We are in the Scouts,
pioneering our way through the
Rocky Mountain West.

Put one foot ahead of the other.
We are like Lewis and Clark
trying to find the Pacific.
You and me.
We are trying to find the

best place to buy Brussel
sprouts in Long Beach, look it up you say
to me
“it is at your fingertips Mr. Clark”

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