Dave Von Bieker

Hacking through a thicket of noise to reach some clearing within myself I am lost in a jangled jungle of thoughts Tossed about in the Facebook maelstrom Drenched in the hurricane of information so that I know everything except my self in the dense and tangled branches of our apple tree there were birds just yesterday redeeming rotten fruit with their pecking but today the tree is barren and the apples sag and stink Having just had coffee with a…

It is almost 8 now the crowds have gone and the festival tents are packed away inside their Rubbermaid totes for another year of hibernation I am standing in the middle of the street which is a crazy thing to do in a busy city on 118th Avenue, or any avenue but not now, on Sunday, before 8 The roads are still closed The neighbourhood defended from marauding cars and trucks by a mote of pylons and barricades until 8…