STUMBLEBUM

Take all your distant
selves into
Your self
here

The only thing you can
ever run from is
you

Chased my tale around the world
a few times
met the masters

Recieved enlightenment
only to stumble like a
punchdrunk fighter

through the streets of
brooklyn and lesser
north american cities

searching for a pure
wilderness and a
true heart to reignite
something lost

forest of my childhood
bicycle freedom
without lust or hunger

(holy ghost needs)

struggle for monetary
stability

empty as a plastic bag
grappling with death and
honor

she is as pure as a childhood
friend/mother