Sometimes the yellow line
divides more then the road
and you realize that you are running away
and that the weight isn't buildings upon you, its
claustrophobia within your skin.
still you crawl towards the womb of the wild.
and spin, reckless, tornado yourself, imitating the animal
unable to see the desperate calculations which are nature
destroying everything in your path
relentlessly free you think
but this type of nihilistic freedom looks better on a page
then it does in person.

And she says that the next time she meets a dreamer
she will spit in their face.
and he thinks his letters are better left unsent.

But not all dreamers are assholes.
and not all of us who seek, destroy
but seeing beauty in everything is
too often an excuse to fulfill
the unconscious ambitions of the weak willed.
and trust me I know I have always been a runner.
Boxing with the shadows of my history
throwing stones at the dreams of constant summer.
because I learned at a young age that stillness was boring
and wondered why I would want to be grounded
when I can be amongst the stars, but
too many times have I mistaken
the whirling head of confusion
for the mindful life of elation.
And
The truth is if I find my path to god
I will probably not stumble there as did my heroes.
I am no drunken prophet or murderous angel.
and too many young men idolize Neal Cassady, Guevera and Tupac Shakur
genius assholes, whose lives and icon blur.
who open minds but fill them with images of grandeur
each of whom died young and hurt many on their short fast stay here.

So do it, get free!
shake your ass, swim in cold ocean
climb that tree.  uncork the bottle
scream down alleyways. seek and see.
write poetry on rooftops.
drive naked across plains.
dance in moonlight.
hitchhike, hop trains.
be an empty vessel
ready to be filled.
be filled and brimming
ready to explode.
do as you do, be as you be
and believe nothing against your conscience
especially not me
but please, listen to this letter
I wrote - to me.  because
explosions are violent
and truth is not thoughtless
so expand your mind with love
even if you know no caution.
For even a free wind has no song
if it has already blown over all if its surroundings
and there are no leaves left to rustle.