lao tzu

While younger, attacks would be made like swarming hordes of barbarians hurling bodies against stoney-cold fortified walls ~ an un-ending, never-yielding scream of wild berzerker rage smashing against all resistance, trampling enemy defenses by sheer brute will, or failing that ... falling defeated in exhausted, heavy limbed heaps at the foot of those who withstood the unthinking, unchecked barrage.


tempered, aged, sharpened - tuned.

but the core still burns furious.

- - -

my gawd, i love bike racing. just racing. the thrills, escapes, accomplishments, and disasters. i love the comraderie, the battles, and the piddling pissing matches in between. i love the shit-talk, the bravado, the romance, and the myriad, unheralded moments of pure class.

that i am lucky, no doubt. no guns, hunger, or fist in my face. no heavy boot on neck or cutting shackles bleeding wrists red.


and so i drop on knees, opening belly and loosing free the wild, untempered, barbaric yawp

of thanks.