Tripping

telling about a time when i was a

man fully loaded

is really sideways disrespect for the 

kind of stud i am now

one stem into reminiscing could also

draw a stream of horror at the

hungry animal its disregard 

for self-regard estate planning

this life wasn't yet a paradigm only

anti-paradigmatic yet

organized enough to fool a boy into

thinking he had time

my boot tracks in the snow are like

the bodies each a new step into the

cold delight of warm palm islands

we were an intimate crew

i have my colossal straddle over those

old-timey train towns and worn goat

paths in the gardens of other capitals

lonesome memories

now i am tripping off to glory

on the heels of my dad and mother and 

so many countrymen

so that the past may keep being fed

 

by Ilyn