My Hobby is Travel

You been waiting for a light breeze to take you somewhere
A sail with no wind,
The indoors don’t become you

You grew weary and faint
But the treadmill took you to a moot destination
And now you’re left panting on the floor

you long to be a sojourner
May your steps be light and your soul lighter
you’d chase the sun just to ask her a question
Return on the waves to tell the earth that secret

You know that men and women thirst for what they lack
They steal, they toke, they fuck in place of answers
Sometimes they even kill
when they don’t have anything else to do

It’s arbitrary,
Like many things before it
But the new thing is
Doing the old thing until it feels older still

If we somehow meet in the middle of the road
I’ll share with you my journey’s advice:
Don’t take the young ones to the slaughterhouse till they’re ready
Let them make the most of their time
The smoke and vapor of life
Too short to grow any wisdom
But too long to scramble for seeds

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From the Author

I don’t like this poem. It’s disjointed, meandering, I’m not completely sure if it makes sense, and it’s not restorative in the least. But I guess that’s just how it feels sometimes. Sometimes you just have to write something that tastes like crap in order to write something at all.

Next week, I’m on the road to a much needed vacation! I’m hoping that the change in scenery will inspire some haiku or tanka. In the meantime, don’t let this post depress you too much!