The distance appears as a roadway to opportunity
You might think we're slaves
You might feel like a robot
Chimney trees and sand bars await
for a day when freedom is not an argument.
Gothic towers hovering with unanswered respect
With a puff and a breath I am one with you, my universe
Scathing and bubbling and surmising and waving over me like a hot wet towel.
Skipping across those wind ripples, my heart and mind are pulsating with you.
I could be running
I could be swimming
I could be exercising my mind
I could be pulling weeds from my non-existent grandmother's garden
I could be stroking tall grass through my fingertips
I could be galloping through tulle
I could be picking up poop of a dog I do not own
I could be moving through the crap polluting my brain
I could be climbing a ladder to the heavens where the
tippy-top golden lace fluff is so succulent in the sky.
I could be turning circles on the roof of my building while the city overtakes the very essence of what is left.
I could be angry.
I could be utterly devastated.
I could be completely shattered.
I could be shedding tears so quick and thick that the bathtub will need to be utilized and subsidized, and prioritized and memorialized.
I am none, and some of these things.
Digging deep while running a marathon is not absent from the intrinsic core of who I allow you to see.
Digging deep, when lungs on fire, heart on the wire, legs on the stilts of my sanity itself,
Is where the fucking train meets the tunnel my friends.
Shoving blackness over your head and ramming you with the guts of goddamn mother earth herself.
Get to the ground!
Get to the heart!
Get to the soul!
Get to the wire.
Gondola man, save a song for the last goose who remembers my name down there.
For this Corona park bench wheel marrow skyline is in fact
the blueprint for euphoria.
I've been there once or twice.
Trust a legend...
but always, always, be your own.
