A Cross-Country Trip

A poetry chapbook from Bottlecap Press

In 2018 I wrote a poem after I finished a cross-country trip in a U-Haul. I thought it could be a chapbook. A small press wanted to do it. Then life interfered. Health crises delayed the project till the pandemic could take over, and after a few years we all sort of forgot about it.

After seeing some other writers putting out chapbooks with Bottlecap Press, I decided to contact them about my poem/chapbook idea. Within a week they took on the project and made sure I was happy with the final product. So here is the final product that I am quite delighted is in the world.

I hope to read from it and have copies available very soon. You may also order books from the press as well as PDF downloads.

https://bottlecap.press/products/cross-country

$10 a book and $3.50 a download. And if you are feeling at all flush and you enjoy the slush I scribble here, consider becoming one of the sweet elite out there who pay me for this drivel. Panhandling is not my strong suit, but every once in awhile I have to remind myself to mention that one could contribute to this compulsion of mine (ours?) if they can and want to. Thank you if you do. We all know it takes a lot of coin to live this high life. Peace & love.

Here’s a bonus (ya masochistic bastards)!

Two Makes Three

more or less I guess
considering eternity
the what have yous

and what have wes
these continuous unfoldings
breathing mysteries

we embrace face
and negotiate
our space reminding

ourselves the snow-
covered path we walk
after dinner on this

winter solstice eve
up Rattlesnake Creek
in a flurry of flakes falling

and listening to the whisper
trickle-gurgling of the stream
bright night under a cloud

blanket lit by urban
glow we know it's best
to stroll squeaking soles

me quiet you praising
this slow walk outside
in wonder snow light

my soul wondering
how time passed so fast
the last fifty years

and why we've held on
to one another watching
others dissolve 

and disappear maybe
for me it's simply
the dogged example

of my parents hanging-
on till the bitter end
I can't speak for you

of course I'm lazy too
would rather stare
out the window

than follow the crowd
witnessing another
agreed upon miracle

there is much to see
and do before we're through
but I can't escape 

the infinity of me
of what I can and can't be
all I can do is thank you 

for the company
for holding onto me
transforming entropy to love
	—for Pam

Mark Gibbons