Leather man…
Thank you JUICE,
for not being called fruit blood…
— Jimmy Fallon on Late Night with Jimmy Fallon
In response,
to questioning,
about the difficult,
goalie situation,
the media,
is still trying,
to create,
from where,
the sun don’t shine,
I heard,
black belt,
Alain Vigneault,
speak directly,
to the matter,
at hand,
The only situation,
I’m concerned about,
is the game,
that we have tonight,
and that he’s playing…
As players you have to be in the moment…
His moment is to go in that net tonight,
and stop the puck…
A.V.’s unwavering,
commitment,
not to be distracted,
as he sticks,
to the game plan,
puts the awe,
in awesome…
The other evening,
Little Gem,
voiced some,
necessary words,
of en-courage-ment…
As I attempted,
to pull myself,
back together,
after drifting off,
the couch,
for an hour or so,
she said,
Mama,
for a person,
who looks like,
she isn’t doing anything,
you sure are doing,
a lot…
This gives,
new meaning,
to the coin toss,
the power nap,
and the expertise,
of a multi-purpose,
tool…
When a coach,
has the nerve,
to unplug himself,
from all of the nonsense,
that is really,
nobody’s business,
well anything can happen,
and it will,
right out,
of the WILD…
Bar tender…
Lingering by the rail when Perez dismounts,
I see how hard Blackie is breathing,
the sweat that coats her shanks,
the dirt splattered on her front quarters…
This time when I watch her I see Thoroughbreds as the brittle creatures they really are—
running backs with ski poles for legs…
For me to win is to finish and get back to my house and eat and not have pain…
That is my winning…
++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
I also watch with the image of the slaughter auction in mind…
Who was I to think there was nothing at stake in a claiming race???
If a big-time horse rides for glamour and prestige,
then the claiming horse rides for her life…
— MY YEAR of the RACEHORSE by Kevin Chong
One thing,
people will say is,
In my next life,
I want to come back as a dog,
seein’ as a dog’s life,
can look,
for all outward,
appearances,
as being the epitome,
of the good life…
I’ve yet,
to hear it said,
In my next life,
I want to come back,
as a horse…
If you can hear,
the things,
a horse has to say,
or feel their collective pain,
amplified,
through your body,
you’d know why,
that particular wish,
doesn’t often,
if ever,
make it,
to the wish list…
My next door neighbour,
had been concerned,
about episodes,
of dizzy spells…
She went to specialists,
and through,
a battery of tests,
to get to the bottom,
of it all…
Some time later,
she read,
the fine print,
on her bottle,
of sleeping pills,
and the sign said,
Warning:
May cause dizziness…
She stopped taking,
her sleeping pills,
and her dizziness,
evaporated,
into thin air…
One thing,
which racehorses,
are rife with,
is ulcers,
and other digestive disturbances,
due to the steady diet,
of non-steroidal,
anti-inflammatory agents,
they are fed,
to race,
through pain…
When horses,
are bored,
stressed,
and confined,
to a stall,
they will start,
to develop vices,
as coping mechanisms…
And it will be,
explained away,
by the owner,
as that’s just,
something,
this horse does…
Cribbing,
is the self-stimulating practice,
wherein a horse grips,
a stationary object,
with its upper teeth,
and arches the neck,
so as to suck in,
or swallow,
air…
This can become,
habitual,
as it creates the release,
of endorphins,
and a momentary blast,
of feel-good,
into a sensitive,
and highly stressed,
system…
And when one horse,
starts to do this,
the others in the shedrow,
will watch,
and learn,
and before you know it,
the habitual behaviour,
spreads,
like wild fire,
and you have a major,
problem,
in your barn…
The well-being,
of racehorses,
both during,
and after,
their careers,
is of primacy,
among my concerns…
And as owners,
of hockey players,
and their bodies,
the NHL,
should be doing,
everything,
within their,
expanse,
of power,
to protect,
their investments,
if and when,
we ever see,
agreement,
on when,
that puck drops,
again…
There is a strong wind,
blowing me,
east today,
and what I’m noticing,
is that when,
I attempt,
to stand straight,
in it,
the strength,
of this message,
just won’t be stopped…
And it’s about GD time,
we listened,
to what,
this song
has,
to say…
Infra read…
Granny Bonne thought and thought…
She didn’t want riches or desire fancy clothes fit for a queen…
She didn’t even wish for a grand house or better land,
since she knew all these things could be taken away…
She held out her hands to the auntie and said,
“These are all I’ve got…
Make my hands so’s they’ll always be of some use…”
The auntie blew into her hands comfort and goodness,
tales and tears,
and Granny Bonne got her wish…
— in The Birth House by Ami McKay
One evening,
while Starshine was,
studying,
on the couch,
and Little Gem,
was putting,
the finishing touches,
on her three story,
Lego house,
surrounded,
by pasture,
I relayed a story,
of how I responded,
to the question,
Have you ever driven,
a truck???
Starshine said,
The idea of you driving downtown,
in the 80’s,
to go clubbing,
in Grampa’s blue Chevy pick-up,
is the funniest thing,
I’ve heard,
all day…
And I,
was,
as usual,
very happy,
to be,
of service,
in the chuckle,
department…
One of the things,
I used to do,
as a primary teacher,
was talk through,
a snail puppet,
named Slider…
His main refrain,
was to
SLOW DOWN,
STOP,
and THINK…
The Mayan Calander suggests,
the world,
as we have known it,
will come to a crashing halt,
on the Winter Solstice,
of 2012…
It is about,
bloody time…
I quite frankly,
have been waiting,
my whole life,
for things,
to come undone…
And now that,
all offers,
have been removed,
from the table,
by the NHL,
hockey,
as we have come,
to know it,
will have plenty,
more time,
to do,
what Slider says…
Because while,
the Players Association,
is doing nothing,
nothing,
finally,
has the chance,
to get done…