Nuclear Reminds Me of Es Vedra

Es Vedra, Ibiza

es vedra

Sounds like this 

“It has the energy of a power plant. It tugged at me like a full moon tide. It yanked at my body, it vacuumed my soul, it practically pulled off my head! When I lived in front of it, I was a match for Vedra herself. I was a siren too, a monster, a witch, the sea around me a heathen brew! No compass could be read by my side. I couldn’t report the news, all my lines were rhymes. Birds and lizards and goats roamed my head, Noah’s Ark! The shroud of mist around Vedra was a cape of clouds around me. Electric, radioactive, primordial clouds spewing volcanic rock. “Live rock!” the Ibicencos call it. The Goddess rock! Es Vedra! She shook the cliffs of Cala D’Hort, she quaked plates, the ground slid as I walked. I tasted salt. Iron. Limestone! Hailstone! Brimstone! Debris! Disaster!”

Maggie Scratch

On the Road with Maggie Scratch, Arcata, California

arcata forest

“We pursued our destination one night with our thumbs jabbing at the headlights of a ’62 Chevy.

The driver slowed down and told us to get in. I started to hop in the front seat. Horace opened the back door for me.

“I’ll sit in front,” he said.

“Suit yourself,” the driver grinned, looking at me in his rear view mirror. “Where ya headed?” He released his foot from the brake and carefully moved it over to the accelerator pedal.

“We’re on our way to Arcata,” I said from the back. “Ever hear of it?”

The driver offered me a cigarette and I took one. Horace said he didn’t smoke. The car moved along the dark highway for a minute before the driver spoke again.

Maggie Scratch