and, the streets will run like rivers. when they do, we'll trade our cars for makeshift rafts made out of responsibilities and couch cushions; we'll name first mates and captains and pirates where we used to name First and Main. Instead, we'll put oars in until they hit asphalt and traverse passes once reserved for horsepower and hisses, shouting at stoplights instead of easing to a stop. There will be some who don't make it, who can't swim, and they will be lost. We have already lost so many who couldn't fashion rafts out of imagination and what surrounded them in a room, washed away.
But, you and me, we're dreamers; we've seen the flood as our open door and walked boldly out into an inhospitable world to men and women on foot. And, in putting in, we're already saying that there is a river, we are captains, and we'll get to wear hats.
Showing posts with label raft. Show all posts
Showing posts with label raft. Show all posts
6.8.08
31.5.08
on stacking everything I own
most of it fits in boxes–books, clothes, kitchen knives, dvds. and, it will all be on the road soon, headed across states and states. i'll be the one on the road, listening to podcasts with the seats folded away, boxes meticulously tucked away. setting the cruise-control, i'm going to sweep across this country, starting here in the midwest and ending up in the northeast.
because when there's nowhere you're supposed to be, there's everywhere you're gonna go. i'm going to chase God through city blocks in Chicago, to the North Woods of Wisconsin, to Indianapolis, through Ohio, until God hits the sunrise on the Atlantic in Rye, New Hampshire. when that sun breaks across the horizon and the air heats up, the sea sprays against the rocky coast and we're all there. we were all wrapped up in it; now, we're being unfolded with each wave. then, we'll eddy behind neglected sandcastles until another wave takes us out to sea.
we're drifters on an endless sea–try that for a cliché. put words like that on a roadtrip; see how the mixing of road and sea suits entire days spent in cars. an endless sea, that suits the whole of what it is right now.
graduated without much place else to go but drift–i should build a raft out of fallen trees, rope and other island-survivor miscellanea.
because when there's nowhere you're supposed to be, there's everywhere you're gonna go. i'm going to chase God through city blocks in Chicago, to the North Woods of Wisconsin, to Indianapolis, through Ohio, until God hits the sunrise on the Atlantic in Rye, New Hampshire. when that sun breaks across the horizon and the air heats up, the sea sprays against the rocky coast and we're all there. we were all wrapped up in it; now, we're being unfolded with each wave. then, we'll eddy behind neglected sandcastles until another wave takes us out to sea.
we're drifters on an endless sea–try that for a cliché. put words like that on a roadtrip; see how the mixing of road and sea suits entire days spent in cars. an endless sea, that suits the whole of what it is right now.
graduated without much place else to go but drift–i should build a raft out of fallen trees, rope and other island-survivor miscellanea.
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