On the Road.

Tiny drumbeats on an olive canvas floating down a river of coffees, from sea to swamp. I miss my hair and the way it kept the rain from my eyes, dripping upon my lips with the taste of clouds and leather instead. Who knows why. Now it storms down upon me, pattering across scalp and cheeks. The birds chatter as they shower from branches overhanging tannin stained roadways with depths unmatched by man-made lanes. Fuck the signs and dashed lines that followed suit I want lawlessness. I want freedom and truth. Am I strong or has domestication given me the illusion of strength? The trailing edge of the paddle slips from the calm waters into a battlefield of dumb bombs and bullets that shatter fragile skies , even if for a brief moment. The river drips from the plastic propeller, craving to leave such a ferocious environment back to its muffled mansion for dead leaves and relics of ages past. It’s had its fill of war. They all have. I crave the conflict and keep moving as if in a trance. I match the pace of nature’s snare. Heaven is hidden-we beasts are too shameless to watch as we carelessly kill, fuck, and drive ourselves to madness. Doesn’t bother me one fucking bit. Shadow puppets held by swaying arms cast their story upon the impact area below, distorted and fleeting images followed by the voice of god-what a fitting narrator-scenes of mass murder, angry and merciless soldiers raining down on the willing and unwilling. The fearful and the nihilists. I can’t relate. I move on in to a void on planet earth. The trees entrenched and intertwined above and below. I am in the womb. The waters narrow and all light escapes me, the sounds of the outside world fall on deaf ears and as I start to feel soft sand gracing the underbelly of my vessel I decide to walk onward, leaving all else behind. The ground sinks and hugs the soles of promiscuous feet. Palm fronds run their fingers cross my arms and chest. They whisper, “Don’t go”, but I must! It is my one and only wish to be reborn in the fertile waters of this all-knowing, forever flowing cunt. I stop as I feel a solution of sand and piercing cold water tickle the arch of my right foot. The end must be approaching. Who knew? My next few steps land me smack dab middle of a massive crater for quicksand and spring currents. Not Nobodies. In the darkness I felt for a bottom while fear and fine soot engulfed my body. The ground is going to eat me. The solution rushed from a bunker of limestone grabbing ahold of my shoulders and ankles. I sank to its soul and closed my eyes. If I were a fish I was eaten, if I were an alligator I was eaten, if I were human I’d have laughed until my lungs filled with water and sand. Thank God I’m Nothing and Nowhere, none of that shit really applies. Phew.