VISION QUEST-PAK

How many times have I gone so far away
I couldn’t find my way back, and relied
on the bread crumbs of strangers to
both sustain myself and establish
a reliable GPS perimeter?

How many times have I closed
the tunnel door to the past
and declared this dungeon
a baggage free zone?

How many times have I felt lighter
than air, but cooked the molecules
till they’re lighter than that,
just to watch them burst and scatter
like soap bubbles, and know that even
less than that is what holds me here…

blind white rock of moon
fall foliage blazes red
a beautiful death

I gather my thoughts
like gutted animal skins
drying in the wind

I’m bending toward sleep
crickets sound like cracking backs
fall sway the weary

The brush of my breath
strums the broken-down guitar
that sits behind me

Window-frames rattle
in the last wind from Brooklyn
yup, I’m outta here

The wick still flickers
in a candlelight vigil
for the flame itself