San Diego 2007

It's times like these when I want to get away:
times when the clouds no longer bleed into the sky;
but the days do seem to bleed into one another
and when each scar is parallel to the one before.
No,
I don't think you do understand.
There are no overstatements here.
I will keep this grudge
like I 'kept' that photo
we took that day last June.
Too soon I will drive away from this personal
wreckage!
Too soon:
after two days
and two days
and two more
I drive away
with the wind at my back
and in my hair,
with my bonsai tree
in the seat beside me:
no agenda,
no distractions,
just miles of highway in both directions
on recycled tires-
a circle of life new-age style
with rubber
to road
and the pedal
to the metal.
And I will wake with the sun if I so choose!
Not to make him his secret pre-dawn pick-me-up
(a quad espresso macchiato),
but to hang with him
in this sky
on these lazy summer days.
I'll smile on all those who I'll see.
I'll eat nothing but bagels for three weeks
living day to day,
from penny to penny,
from here
to there,
from this Starbucks café in wind blown Orlando
to the Hot Monkey Love Café in downtown San Diego
to see Bushwalla
sing Ghettoblaster
and Self-Deprecating Hip Hop.
Throw in a friendly face,
barely recognizable after
all
these
years
and off I'll go
down the road
to lovely,
sunny
San Diego.



Written in Florida summer 2007