if Freud were here

drifting

turning down this road

going into the street where

that store we can get

images of mountains

rivers streams

places to sit eat drink

think of home

& these come unbidden

needing everyday stuffs

puzzling the rows

in AlCampo Auchan Le’Clerc

locales in Spain France

mom & pop shops in Arizona

outback station redwoods Cali

feeling the chill in the air

needing Alicante sun warmth

wearing a pop button shirt

bought in a Reno thrift

matched with jeans from goodwill

boots at a store Hampshire England

the world is shrinking in our dreams

& if Freud were here

you know I’d ask him what all of that

means

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& to be true

I wanted to be gone

& to be true

I felt my people

wanted me gone too

one less mouth to feed

more cash for the booze

but where to go?

loving the sun the beach

the mountains lakes

green meadows blue skies

so many places

where to choose?

& knowing nowhere

could now be home

setting out for something

to be always alone

never settling here

wanting to be over there

somewhere else with you

roads I can’t get to

in other places different worlds

along the ocean highway

up into the mountains

there’s a place we can eat

look out over the world

& these roads I can’t get to

not outside my door

Bike is packed & ready

wanting to head for heaven tonight

twisties along the border

straight lines heading through the plains

the hairs on my arms lifting

as I think on mile after mile

on the edge of the desert

sun lifting my heart

warming through my shirt

& these roads I can’t get to

take me through long winter nights

the mountains will remain the same

there are no answers

waking at three is no good anymore

it has been a while since I was crawling through the door

at this kind of time

& instead the dark closes in my mind

thinking how of other changes in my life

when did I begin to care about the nothings of time?

I had my understanding nobody cares about anything

unless they are lovers or kith & kine

& even they have learnt to look the other way

when you come looking for answers

a kinder way to make it through

your bowl open & empty is all they see

& rather than tell you they too are empty

they will tell you to go look in another direction

there you might seek answers to find

leaving you to understand you are wrong again

these loves you look upon are only but chains

care for what you want to care

ignore what doesn’t kill you

& the mountains will remain the same

the pongs of spain

la peste espagne

milla tras milla

la marcha implacable

de cobertizos de pollo

siguiendo la piel el camion

el matadero recoger

a través de las montañas

sin alivio

al abrir todas las ventanas

negro & oro

campos de trigo chamuscado

ardiendo la neblina de calor

sentado debajo de los pinos

después de una tormenta de verano

peor

el dasague

en ausencia de lluvias

caminar por los campos

de Romero

siente las abejas Hum

horarios de almuerzo en el pueblo

ventanas abiertas

siempre está en casa

man it was cold

driving through the mountains

sky a deep blue

snow all around

& I hadn’t spoken a word

to anybody for a day

close to two

& all the traffic took a right

even if I knew

on the map my route

took a straight through

& maybe for fellow feeling

some sense of belong

maybe they knew

something I did not

I took that right

ended at a ski resort

watching them pull out boards

skis sticks hats & gloves

multicolour blaze & laughter

for the fun to come

as I turned around

& drove back

on my own

feeling lonelier

than ever before