she was surprised as hell
when John told her his brother might've
skied Mount Fuji and she was quick to point out
how dreamy the islands might look
while peering down through the clouds,
the resistance of a corporate being
maybe, wanting to elevate her preconceptions,
flee the mundane long enough to kill the
obvious but not long enough to test
the steepness
and again substance driven
like unwanted white snow
further into obscurity
and John, shattered like stalagmite might
after the red rocks in Colorado,
the next natural phenomenom blade
grooming or retarring, maybe Hummers
with a roofrack to get away from the
outrightly rocky but never slipping away
to Aspen
and escape becomes relative
with the random knocks
of more spontaneous being
spitting up in the wheel wells
as lapping bus tires drown a
panorama
roadworthiness a question of
stamina
and even though John really didn't ski
sure she meant Fiji
another kind of trap