The slick of paint’s a wave to ride
till you’re perched upon the crest that’s dried
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What’s just over the hill
Wrongly roams the mind
Like Satan in Job in need of a job,
testing the rest (at God’s request?),
every last link to see what gives
The cheap seats
Man makes his own mountain
I’d like to go down to where the day went
To see what one does
when not a day.
Maybe there’s something he needs.
Can I be of some assistance?
No, we’re fine here:
we love the mist
of shiftless play.
Traffic jam in Utrecht
Off to the Magic Kingdom
USA 4 – Netherlands 3!
A month before the Tour
Utrecht Journal 