thinking outloud again in movie motion scenery.
stray not far; become where you are.
i've been tryin' to mail indiana postcards from a blue chicago box. the only ones i could find had cowboys ridin' jackrabbits on 'em. i sat last night writin' little quips, like tellin' 'em to stay strong in these wretched times and rejoice, and drink all the wine you can before your teeth fall out.
this morning woke i woke up to joyce's sisters imagining the sidewalk and askin' if i was sittin' around coy by the corner with my lambswool cap and mornin' cup if anyone would come around and drop a nickel in it for me. i'd donate every lucky penny i found heads up hopin'. i left one in the grotto for grandma and one in the forest for our eternal life. i know i got my youth runnin' around at a hundred miles an hour and still i got that way of livin' every winter i've ever had from my bed without moving an inch. she can tell i'm just an angel like her trapped in this body with my spirit floating around and all the energy of the universe waiting to get out, but i'm just an old loon now with my hair gettin' too long and haven't shaved in months 'cause i ain't got no reason to. no woman, no job, no car. a bum with a fistful of nothingness and a headful of somethin' no one can know.
the path you see
is neither you nor me.