Iditarod, .... In Answer To Kelly's Queries Poem by RIC BASTASA

i am impartial to any smell.
I have not met a skunk though.

a sore day is a sore day
nothing seems to be enjoyable
to me
except the massage given to me
by the Thai girl.

severe storms are normal here
and do not exhilarate us all.

i have not eaten the same thing
for nine days in a row
but i remember when we had nothing
to eat for nine days.

it used to be that the happiness
of my loved ones is more
important than mine.

But I've changed.
Their ingratitude did it.

something has remained true
through and through.
I still cry
over violin melodies.

there is no future.
I live by the moment.
we wanted to think purely
in abstract but we get
hungrier everyday
and food is not abstract.

what is an iditarod?
tell me. Just me.

because like you, actually,
it is just me too.

or us, as of now.