In the past couple of weeks, as I wait to get into Kham, Sichuan, I have been dreaming about the snow that is falling back in Fernie. It occurred to me Hot Dog day is coming up and I will be missing the pow pow, the big air, and the absurd zaniness that makes more sense to me than anything. Heres to the Griz, hot doggin, and all the designated drivers who are going to change their minds....
Haute Dog by Roann Liew
bacon
I don’t remember
breakfast
or even
waking up
put your tights on
I’m blind
really dark
sunglasses
peering through
crystal blue razor
sharp edges
headwall
calling us or
us calling her
hollering out
the window
whizzing
by west
fernie a car
costing less
than the skis
my jacket
two dollars
wearing four
leg warmers
can’t feel my
balls you win
nice boobs
whats that
your box a
martini
set matches
my hair
race you to
the wallaby
to the wallaby
big air
nine foot
fat guy
bag o chips
big air
faces melting
split seams
big air
pass me
a cold one
up for another
run another run
a foot in the
boot the boot
in the ski
another run
another one
lunging
down the world
helicopters
all smiles
my face
melting keep your
headband on
to the griz!
to the griz
I’m there
