“Californian Mountaineers”
They walk along height of social confusion.
Maybe a nice broom hangs from a basket of cat food.
Who knows?
But, Californian mountaineers are vagabonds, with or without residence.
Cooking is usually their disfavor of nutrition.
However milk sits inside a morning bowl is beyond our favorite questions.
We talk on and on while the sun bakes a cloud upon impressive horizon.
A moon can suddenly appear “gone” for limited science.
I walk with a Californian mountaineer from time to time.
Sometimes, he or she speaks German.
Sometimes, he or she speaks Chinese.
Sometimes, he or she speaks one of so many foreign languages in my state.
For general manner of interest, a politic strikes common sense.
Logic becomes a destination for their emotional struggle.
He probably goes to church for donuts and coffee.
He doubts evolution; he doubts religion.
At first, he shows off with his personal country style of humor.
When I mention Theology to him, he says,
“What is that?”
When I mention the word “enchantment” to him, he says,
“That’s not a word.”
When I mention God to her in a low whisper, she covers her ears and says,
“I’m walking over to the birthday cards and getting out of quiet moments.”
Californian mountaineers walk on hard streets to drift for polite worry.
Manners are partial and subtle in certain areas.
She can stay in a marketing plaza and beg for tamales.
She may be crying with the hope of normal rest at the Silver Star hotel.
Homeless people may still need to work for a living.
A Californian mountaineer’s kitchen can be so empty with little cereal.
He or she will have “a banana a day” and know nothing about vitamins.
Every chat, every text, every social media post sounds like hungry beard.
Their computers are getting old and there’s all these wrappers in their cars.
My list of friends includes some Californian mountaineers to this day.
A mountaineer can just live in a giant vehicle with affordable camp.
He or she is more likely to “hear” and less likely to “see” my words.
Philosophy with these friends will influence their nerves to positive doubt.
Wear and tear is not in their interest; complaining and joking are their habits.
Often, Californian mountaineers are vintages from primitive cowboy sanity.
An old man will suddenly spark to his children with joy about “heaps of love”.
In the modern age, these people are not likely to be farmers at all.
And, yet, “gardening” and “yard” make up almost half of their vocabulary.
Cable TV is too much money and satellite TV is just the thing.
A neighbor of mine can get damaged skin from a normal shower.
My mom needed so many vitamins and limited trips to soap and lotion.
The sun in California will cause questionable raisin products.
Of course, the Californian mountaineers mostly never do anything extreme.
But they are so, so curious.
A young stranger can walk into a burger restaurant and suddenly visit me.
He will probably sell a big bag of Japanese food to me at the coffeehouse.
He may even hold my hand while sitting with me at a bench.
I may need to let him go.
A lady grows up and gets more yoga and covers her breathing exercise.
She will ask me for potato chips and wait near an unpopular gas station.
Almost nobody pays attention to the glass soda bottles at a Hollywood deli.
In California, a normal millionaire’s house is not much better than my condo.
California is full of so much sand, rocks, and weeds here and there.
Do vagabonds ever get thirsty in their pedestrian music playing?
It’s hard to tell.
Literacy is a constant mirror upon their boring gloom.
And, yet, they are really charming to the point of laughter and criticism.
Californian mountaineers are reasonable guests and honorable consumers.
They actually enjoy playing the worst video games in history of gaming.
Respect, kindness, and sarcasm are their fortunes of light.
I get along with them; they get along with me.
So, with my residence of interest, I hope to reach their hearts.
https://www.deviantart.com/gameuniverso/art/Californian-Mountaineers-955235433
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