Your Eyes, My Breath

You seem surprised
Full of surprises
Words ring
Truth always does

You can feel
Space there
Full of what remains
Unspoken

But keep guessing
Work to figure it out
Wrong, wrong again
So well hidden

Impossible to read
Hiding in plain sight
Many, many stories
Tried to dismiss

There traces
They call you
Draw you in
Come here

Stop staring
Stop hiding
Come here
God damn it!

No? No more women for you?
No more loving, laughter
Hot filthy sex to anger
Neighbors with its volume?

No expectations
Only wishes
We can keep going
Until one of us is dead

Summer approaches
Sheet of white cloud
Strain an impossible sky
Drench the earth

I want
I need
More than anything
To love you



-Copyright C.M. Mounts, April 2017

Scars

I can see others
Get through
They laugh
They have love

If I try hard enough
Hold out long enough
Walk over enough coals
To the other side

This will get better
But in the midst of hell
You have only one desire
And that is to get out of it

Douse the heat with tears
Or alcohol (flammable)
You can step off for a moment
Until the ground shifts

You can’t stand standing
In narrow strips between pits
There is a door on the other side
People seem to make it out

But not everyone.
Some lay down
Some go back
Some stand, perpetual

 

-Copyright C.M. Mounts, January 2018

Summer’s End

I can’t really remember
What I have been doing
These past months, years

Maybe it is a mercy
Maybe it is survival
Maybe it is the only way

To get through it
To the other side
To the down time

I guess we all have the option
To not get involved
Close the door, turn on the TV

Shut it out, shut it down, shut it off
20 + 20 + 20 is an hour
To focus that long isn’t that hard

Run ink tracks through the page
Ride rubber into the sunrise
Coffee fueled, driven, driven mad

Long nights, sit in summer
Meditative rhythm of the respirator
Company of paper and sterile gauze

Passersby issue the hairy eyeball
Jaded nurses yearn for retirement
She walks now, I run

If I could get on my bike
Turn back time
No one would see me til September

 

-Copyright C.M. Mounts, August 2017

Perfect World

Wake and journal.
A few pages.

Coffee, but all after
I feed the pets.
They won’t wait for me.

Nor will my muse.
Write anyway.

Breakfast.
Morning, raw creation.

Lunch.
Afternoon, read or edit.

Cats won’t let it be past 4.
They get fed at 5, as do I.

Evenings dedicated to jazz, to wine,
To poetry read aloud to a lover,
To dishes, to hot baths, to hot sex.

Paycheck.
Public speaking.

Finished books.
Finished drafts to be books.
Drafts in progress. Drafts to be.

Cycling, cooking.
Music, dreaming.
Dancing, travel.
Dining, friends.

 

-Copyright C.M. Mounts, October 2017

Wayside

Depression is like a flat tire
Without a spare or a jack
Maybe it’s a hot day
You wait for the tow truck
Miserable in the heat

It’s the same old car
same old stretch of road
You are going nowhere
You can’t fix it
You have to wait

But wait!
Your body is trained
If you put on cycling clothes
Happy chemicals flood the brain
Lift you out of the episode

There is power in ritual
Exchange a flat, tired mind
Get out the door
Get on the bike
The rest will take care of itself

 

-Copyright C.M. Mounts, October 2017

RAGBRAI 2015

On July 22, 2018, 20,000+ cyclists will once again make the 450+ mile, week-long journey across Iowa known as RAGBRAI. The Register’s Annual Great Bicycle Ride Across Iowa (RAGBRAI), is an annual seven-day bicycle ride sponsored by the Des Moines Register newspaper. Starting in 1973, RAGBRAI is the oldest, largest, and longest recreational bicycle touring event in the world. It is held in the last week of July and has an average length of 468 total miles, with the average daily distance between host communities of 67 miles.

In July 2014, my friend Barb asked me if I would be interested in riding RAGBRAI 2015 with her cycling team. At first, I thought she was nuts. I had never been considered an athlete and had undergone back surgery in July 2013. My first reaction was that I could never physically do it. But then, I stopped myself… I had to ask, “But why can’t I?”

I didn’t own a bike, so I began riding 47-pound Nice Ride bike share cruisers around town to see if I could physically handle the training that would be required the following summer. When I was finally able to ride 20 miles on one of those tanks in October 2014, I decided that yes, I was going to do it.

Winter was coming, and I didn’t want to buy a bike until I really knew what I wanted. Another friend pulled a shitty hot pink hybrid bike that you might buy at a box store out of a trash pile and gave it to me. So naturally, I named her Trixy and placed her on an expensive cycle trainer for the winter months. And all that winter, I rode that heap and watched movies, terrified of RAGBRAI.

In February 2015, Barb told me with deep regret and apologies that her team had dissolved and that she was not going to be able to ride RAGBRAI after all. I was faced with a decision: don’t go after all the training I had already done or go alone. I refused to give up. I decided to go alone. In April 2015, I bought my bike Alexis, a steel Jamis Aurora touring bike and the rest is history.

In the end, I rode 490 miles in 7 days through summer heat and humidity, between the Iowa corn fields, small towns, and beer tents. I normally write a daily journal but writing during RAGBRAI proved impossible due to the level of exhaustion that I experienced. However, I did keep notes during my training. What follows is an excerpt of those journals by date and a count of the mileage I put on my bike Alexis. Enjoy! Continue reading “RAGBRAI 2015”

Popcorn from the Void: one-year anniversary

July 10, 2018 was the one-year anniversary of the publication of Popcorn from the Void– my friend Todd Park’s memoir that I edited from his blog. The proceeds from the sale of this book go to support various cancer charities. It’s been doing well for a self-published book about such a serious topic: the arduous journey of a bone marrow transplant and the untimely death of its author.

I am proud that it is still selling copies. Self-published books in general don’t do very well without the assistance that a publishing house provides. Publishers will help with editing, polishing, cover art, marketing, and placement. It is in their financial interest to help their authors sell books. If you self-publish, you have to do it all or pay someone to help you.

Self-published books have a bad reputation that is unfortunately too often earned. There are too many early drafts offered up in the market that still need a ton of work. It’s work that people are not willing to commit time to. There is a lot of excitement around completing a first draft of a book, so I get why people are impatient to share it with the world. But it is still just an early draft and it’s not ready…

Writing, editing, and publication are lengthy and difficult phases of book creation (it can take years) but once they are complete, the really hard part begins: marketing. How do you get noticed in a flooded marketplace with dwindling readership? The vast indifference is deafening.

A self-published author needs to not only be good at writing but also good at the business of writing. Todd was such a good writer that generating a book worthy of publication was possible, though not easy. Then, came the challenge of how to market a book about such a heavy topic. For my part, I ran several marketing campaigns- emailing interested parties; releasing copies for circulation in free libraries across the mid-west; sending a mailer to cancer support groups; conducting a Twitter campaign; and attending a book fair.

It has mostly been a positive experience for me, with the exception of trying to market to the general public at the book fair. The book fair itself was great, but I made a lot of people uncomfortable. I would give my 60-second pitch and watch the look of horror gradually wash over people’s faces. They would take my candy and quickly leave my table. A fellow vendor felt the need to tell me that a memoir about a man’s journey though Leukemia treatment and dying was “a terrible story”. I know that’s about her, not the book.

What can I say? The truth is rarely popular. It’s a niche’ market. It’s a book intended to help friends, family, and patients understand what leukemia treatment is really like. And it continues to sell. And it has helped people. It has even helped my mother. She was diagnosed with MDS (Myelodysplastic Syndromes), a blood cancer sometimes referred to as ‘pre-leukemia’, in May 2018. The serendipity of life is strange at times…

I have learned so much that is invaluable from the entire process- from the actual production of the book, to the effectiveness of various marketing avenues, to interacting with people around the topic. It was my apprenticeship, the gateway to producing my own books.

As a philanthropist, I am proud that the work I have done will continue to produce money that will be donated to help people like Todd, people like my mom, to have access to better treatments and prognosis and quality of life. That alone has made this journey so worthwhile.

Happy anniversary, Popcorn.

 

-Copyright C.M. Mounts, July 2018