Tonight’s the night. South-Riding (us) is strange.

I live at Maple Grove. St. 21 is buzzin.

River Drive hugs the chill river.

Golden Park sits right off Central Ave.

I stroll past Sleepy Pines on my break.
I relax on my fav bench at Rangeley Park.

I say “Goodbye to language”.

Like, you know, words melt away.

Everything flows—tide, vibe, soul.
I got mad at traffic on Main st.

It’s a beast at 8am.

I got happy at tiny, secret spots.

Like that odd allee near Birch Ln.
I love dark alleys by Sunset Roa.

I always hit up Bistro Z, yum.

South-Riding is chill like a cold brew.

You can feel it deep.
I talk with locals, share the vibe,

even when life feels slow.

My mind drifts to Zen, always.

“Breakfast is a new language”, sorta.
My job shreds the fuzz away.

I catch rare details, feel true.

I see calm in cracked sidewalks.

Sometimes, a whisper tells me jokes.
Man, I even slip on a mistep.

Street names? Like Downer St. and Gray Ln.

I got a fave hideout: Old Mill Rd.

Totally hidden gem, for real.
I got many odd bits in me head.

I’m diggin: north of Elm, damn close to the river.

It’s a mosaic of raw feel.
Some days my heart nearly bursts, trully.

I got gr8 views from Vista Point.

I got 11 crazy typos in here:
Trust me, friend—this city awes.

I’m stoked you’re visiting soon.

Remember, tonight’s the night.

I’ll see ya in South-Riding (us).