deepundergroundpoetry.com
Walkabouts
Walk with me
Far into the afternoon
where our shadows grow
long
and deep black
Walk with me
Far into the evening
where the moon shines a spotlight
through endless darkness
Walk with me
into the deep midnight
within
and
without
and on...
...
So alone
I can barely stand it
On my own
with the silence granted
a calm
a crisis
the best way to fight this
is to lose myself
balancing
on the horizon
I took a walk to the mall
halfway across town
my sneakers trumping tires
I didn't own
- Fuck our ride, then
my feet just had a tune up
Fuck you
and your disgusted charity
In a lonely bookstore,
I found a bible
filled with empty pages
Somewhere on the road,
I found a pen
Somewhere out there,
Somewhen...
high on dehydration
I wrote a Word
and I saw that it was true
So the only thing left to do
was find some more
On...
Cowards floating high above
the shimmering
heat shivering streets
Their thoughts sweating bullets
Their eyes sweating
humid chemical losses
Tejano echoes down sun-baked avenues
accordions and deathly caws
soundtrack of the desolate stretch
My long shadow does me thin favors
and precedes me like a dark parade
Half dead palm trees
wavering
in the stale almost-Mexican breeze
Brown blades of grass cemetaries
Still...
Green streaks peek between
the bones of their brethren
Guiding the way
Shining like verdant stars in the day
The smell of
Sunday morning barbacoa
and beer
A melted Snickers bar looks like
half-wrapped shit
in the drainage ditch
Sun-stilled reptiles
shoot the breeze with quick tongues
watching with disdain
Suffering the heat and feeling no pain
They watch my sneakers
slap the asphalt
amused
by the two-way abuse
no use
for smiles
here
Walk with me
Here...
Closer...
Scott and Chris
Eddie and Kurt
Gavin and Layne
wail
and roar in my ear
from a decade back
welcome sonic attack
my G-shock sidekick
numbing the silence
And I'm waiting...
Always waiting...
Waiting
as I walk in the sun
My soul baked to a crisp
My heart all clashing symbols
and pounding bass
My mind on its own journey altogether
My feet knew exactly where to go
I caught myself wandering out there
the other day
He looked lost
and I watched him
keep walking anyway
Because at sixteen,
hot blood threatening
sex and death
in twisted veins
try in vain
as I might
I can't outrun me
I can't find me
Cars and trucks pass strangely
at odd times
with a boom
and soon
the sun is sinking toward
the shingles and clay tiles,
daring me to keep walking
- When did I last eat?
- When did I last feast on love?
Brain cells swim dizzily
with lazy backstrokes
Cooking up new mirages
past that highway yonder...
There's something strangely sexual about
walking alone
like I have no home
Because at seventeen,
home is a bed among strangers
in a house where no favor
goes unpunished
I can't cease being me
I can't be me
On...
Where did I go?
Where did the water go?
Kurt says something about a memory...
I think I...
Did I...?
Someday...
Someday,
I'll be someone's hero
Maybe mine, we'll see
Maybe hers, if she's even to be
alive
Something to strive
for
toward
forward
licking my lips
as my imagination shakes her hips,
I taste Texas dust
tastes like momentum
On...
And Chester and Dexter
and Tim and Zack, too
tell me exactly what to do
How to feel my way
Where to go away
Along suburban streets alone
in San Antone
street lit nights
and gentle concrete sights
in quiet midnight
Henderson Pass snakes and slithers between homes
and guides my boots
to the loot
from bed to books
and back again
Here, I have found the missions
Carrying dreams to a foreign land
at hand
in my backyard
Everywhere was alien, once
Everyone is an alien,
trust
that no one makes it past my headphones
and back alive
No one reads my pages
without fear to dive
Here I strive to chase me down
and own the town
around me
Where my peers fear
to wander
Where spirits fear
to ponder
all the ways my mortal eyes
can straighten all the jigsaw knots
of calculated order
into mortar
for the bricks
of my paper walls
There's something knowingly sexual
about
walking alone
like I have no home
Because at eighteen,
home is a bed among strangers
in a house where no pleasure
goes unpunished
I refuse to cease being me
I refuse to be me
My lungs can feast on freedom here
the cool
the moon
the stars,
too soon
swallowed by the passing clouds
In the stillness,
my vagabond steps
talk too loud
Out here,
I learn to drift
my path
along to new dreams
High on the night
Blazed on moonlight
The stars fool me
wonderfully
into believing that I matter
beyond the matter
of my own life
of my own death
of my own depth
of perception
of where this road is headed
And I believe, somewhere along the way
somewhere within
somewhere deep
and dark
and hidden past the shiny corners
of my eyes
is actual compassion
for the rest of the musings from beyond
They're not here for my amusement
or solely for my misery
There are worlds beyond
the concrete I am on
Somehow
I have always seen it
Anyhow,
I can never clean it
The road to the rest of you, that is
On...
Be now, my guiding dtar
Lend a hand
in a desperate land
separate
yet intersecting
Like sex between stars
the Astral Porn of my waking mind
is only sometimes dulled
yet never left behind
Walking only takes me so far
My eyes can feast on freedom here
the path
the pages
the words
the cages
swallowed by ticking clocks
In the stillness,
my vagabond steps
only kick the rocks
On...
On loop through a temple of labor,
I still walk on
Racing the laughter
the shadow
the leash of tomorrow
the collar of yesterday
Dexter said something about getting away...
I know...
I once...
I can't describe
because I can't scribe
not like yesterday
back along the grid
Where the gentle clouds
of smiles
in spite of myself
shaded and illuminated just enough
to map the parts that mattered
And my circuit brings me right on back
to a stationary seat
where I can't complain much
won't complain much
Because you can't bitch much
about staying alive
you can't bitch much
about paying for the boat
your heart floats in
There's nothing shiny or sexual about
walking alone
when I have a home
Because at adulthood,
home is a bed among pieces of you
in a house where no effort
goes meaningless
I must cease being me
I must be me
But someday,
it might be nice
it would be nice
to feel the breath of freedom on my eye
At least now, I can see my shadow
Walking so much
sharpens the contrast
strips your mind to the bone
burns the fat away from the lies
Severs your ties
to the sparkling bullshit
your history whispered to you
These days,
beautiful voices find me
in the dark
in the loop
The truth is
the truth finally found my feet
and now I can greet
my shadow
with a smile
To meet myself
is to stop walking
For as long as I have walked,
I have never really moved
Next, I'll write a new Word
Time,
please tell me
if it's any good.
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