i went to the forest

i went to the forest yesterday in this

banal mission to get the fuck out of dodge.

except that dodge is in arizona

and i'm in the south.

dripping with talent and heart

maybe some overly new age version of myself

the artist as a young architect

sitting and biding my hours

tick tock

tick

i don't want to be this afraid

new lets be real, people,

i was in a forest with two dogs,

some fruit, cheese, crackers,

and no tent poles.

but i had a rope and hung that shit up.

strung it.

and aware of myself not saying a thing

aware that i could not remember

what i had been thinking about just then.

just then.

and wondering if this is how the mind

resets itself.

not thinking about the infinite

or extending my intention

or breathing through the contractions.

this has not been the most graceful chapter.

i have memories of a busted up side wall -

my truck dusty - in a dream last night

i have been recovering from

so many things.

i am choosing to loose count.

and in the middle of all of this barreling through space -

my voice.

sometimes so sore that talking makes it hurt.