piles

I never learned too well
how to live out of
closets and dressers,
how to fold clothes
into drawers, how to
own a place

I am comfortable
living out of mounds,
out of baskets with
just enough clothes
for a schoolweek,
out of pockets with
just enough dollars
for a few months

but even a nomad
feels the urge
to build.

Is there any clean slate?
Is there any clear place?

Is there anywhere
near here
where horizons are
simply open,
where they
simply stretch
into wild blue
glistening gold

there is wandering
and wondering
constant
persistent

four wheels and
a combustion engine
will only take you
so far

and all that
you leave behind
inevitably
stays inside:

Do not run.

This land is not
as edgeless as
we once thought
it was;

we cannot
take, waste,
and leave the way
old wanderers
once did.

Let us pick up
the debris

let us examine
its decay

let us see
what might
be left in
the old
that can be
made new,

let us not
give up
on what
seems broken.

 
 
 
 
 

(title from tkk)

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