The Backpack

the next eighteen kilometers

motion.
  moving through the greens
      and the browns
    like a diluted mixture
of water colors
  faster
     thriving through
  the grays bottom below
(with stones flying
    hitting the leaf spring)

humid.
  remembering tatooine
    my shirt soaking
like a notebook
  clinging to its wet plastic cellophane
dreaming
    trying to take me
  through the highs and lows
         sleeping and rocking
  sleeping and rocking

fear.
   like the chassis exploding
breaking into a multitude
      of parts
disturbing
    my ribs are giving in
            my heart is bursting
bursting.

home.
  finally home
(for whatever it means)
        i thought of it through
the next eighteen kilometers.

This entry was posted on Wednesday, May 17th, 2006 at 2:37 am and is filed under Uncategorized. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can skip to the end and leave a response. Pinging is currently not allowed.