boneless feast

Boneless to curb, spinning in air to 180,
Semi-landing on the other side,
Kicking it old school—
My knee starts to throb right away,
I think I just pulled a groin muscle.
Not like the old days when I could do 270’s and 360’s,
From the curb, a bench, whatever.
Z says that looks cool, tries a couple himself,
And E does the same, think he will get it sooner
Than any of us.
He’s just faking right now—takes his front foot off,
Grabs the board with his hand, takes back foot off,
Guides the board through the air with both hands,
Lands it dramatically.
He then picks it up and throws it on the pavement,
Must have been watching that Vallely video yesterday,
When we all thought he was asleep.
Z has started doing circles, getting more comfortable,
Had him popping off curbs by twisting body, then board.
He looks a lot more comfortable on his deck,
Should be ready to drop in at the park by next year.
Vallely was busting bonelesses left and right on video,
Sprinkled in ollies, nollies, a little of everything.
He talked about his passion for skating,
For doing your own thing and not following the trends,
Been trying to tell the kids that from the start.
It is not about aping so-and-so skating pro,
It is about finding your own lines and carving away—
Expressing yourself via 7-ply Canadian maple.
It is about exploring and discovering—
Your environment, your self.
All else fades away . . .
Bills, jobs, parents, whatever—
In the flow, in the moment,
Ready for the next bank or ramp,
Ready to ride and rip for the joy of it.
I told them not to just skate at the park,
There are hidden gems in every town,
Little nooks and crannies just waiting to be found.
Life is a banquet, waiting for us to feast.
And feast we shall, feast we shall.