This open-ended soliloquy..

We are sliced bananas and cheerios sopping up sink grime in the boys locker room, we are the eye boogers you find at dinner time, we are the showers you have not used since high school, and we are the smell you can not get off your feet, we are three hours of sleep eating standing up in a four way conversation, our cell phone is still ringing, we are the drizzle that turns Washington green, we are one thousand dollars of gatoraide, we are coffee on the hour, we are the lines at the airport and the airport itself, we are the anticipation of tomorrows greatest day of your life, we can not wait to get a drink, we are locked in a bathroom stall and alone for the first ten minutes since June 4th, we are headlamps searching for the broken blood vessel, we are here and now there and back- but we must be going, we are impossible, we are the sunset of Montana’s Hell Gate Canyon- peach and crimson columns of dusk splitting midnight blue drizzle clouds, we wear the lycra booties, we slept on your basketball court and left no trace, we waited all day for you, we are the river valleys of Western Montana opening into boundless green prairies, we are lost on the North Fork of the Cor’de Lane River, we are that white canopy along the roadside serving pot stickers, tamales, watermelon and hickma salads, apple garlic sausages, and dried fruit from every corner of the globe, we are your highways in need of better care, we are the stench of roadkill and wild flowers, we are sunblock over both lips and a full can of deet on our tent- and how did our tent get up there anyway? we are what’s new on the dry erase board and tomorrow we are the little yellow arrows at your towns single four lane crossing and where were we yesterday? We are the longest route meeting, the beer that helped us miss it- and we can also ride a beer sled. we hiss and zip in symphony at daybreak but we have been awake for hours, we are not who we thought we were we’re more, we are reasons we can’t explain, we are a Penski moving van named “the yellow submarine”,
and yes-
we rode this bicycle from the Pacific Ocean.