Some say I look like a walrus
with my faded apricot shirt and untrimmed moustache,
but here’s the thing:
never has my mind been filled to such an overflowing
with such an uncountable number of things
flickering through me at an untraceable speed,
equal only in their ranking
as items of stunning insignificance.
In any case,
I’ll meet you at the corner of Vanity and Age,
where the brushstrokes of dawn dress casually
and a lone star stands, unobtrusive,
before taking its last drag off the night
and flicking the roach away
to the opposite curb of the world.
And me, spilling out onto the street with two Mary’s –
one bloody, one virgin, singing:
Goddess Pele, purify me with your volcano fire.
Help me remember to see and embrace
what is before me,
and not search too hard for what isn’t.
Help me to not strain my eyes
trying to look too far ahead,
not stare back behind me for too long,
hypnotized by what has passed,
mesmerized by the highway lines.
May I be like the cat
who practices heliotropism so effectively,
who lounges and, smiling, is ever hopeful
about his next meal.
May I not get so tangled in thought and emotion
that I bind myself.
May I honor desires, dreams, fears.
May I remember things are just what they are,
on either side of any hill,
and that there are no sides,