Spitfire Diary (I)

All winter I've promised
to hold these blizzards accountable                              
for making me practice
switch heelflips in the garage. 
This while the wind 
keeps whipping the door, 
jarring the flakes of rust free 
of its tracks. I've lost 
count of the times 
I've managed to roll                                               
away fakie from a frontside 
blunt on this parking block 
I stole from the Orthodox 
church last summer.
All winter I've plotted
revenge on the snow.

Spitfire Diary (II)

Now I am even 
nostalgic for wheelbite. 
Come spring,
first thing I'll do
is half cab the gap 
behind Safeway.
If I slam, I will skip 
like a stone. 
Gems of asphalt 
will cling to
my skin in the rain.