give up
and you will die before the rest;

and if you try,
well,
you’re still going to die.

built up
and dropped

raised
then
razed

Just me,
the cows,
and the country.

Falling into a job
that Kerouac would envy

was meant to be.

ii.

We’re alive,
and events transpire.

If something happens
then that was what was supposed to happen in the universe,
because it already happened,
so you can’t refute it.

It was calculated before the big bang.

Within this universe,
all that transpires
exists in a super-unified field theory equation
that combines the regular unified field theory (yet to be discovered)
with the infinite unified field theories
of infinite amounts of
universi and their
varying amounts of perceivable
and usable
dimensions.

Me typing this
is completely explained
and predicted
in that infinite
equation.

iii.

I guess that means
getting my heartbroke again,
like i don’t mean nothing,
was supposed to happen
so i can realize that
i don’t mean anything.

It’s actually quite liberating
once you realize how self-unimportant you are,
you can let go of giving a fuck about about a lot of things.

You can drive a van full of heavy gear
through the back country
of the United States
“tornado alley”
passing giant big rigs at seventy-five miles per hour by inches
coming the other way
with complete confidence
in knowing
a big gust of wind
could blow that big rig into you,
and you go…
you fucking leave the earth in a twisted bloody metal flash,
and you’re a quick blurb on the local ABC Kansas affiliate
as an unnamed motorist in a cargo van
killed
when a big rig collided with you
on Highway 40
outside Winona.

iv.

Prologue:

Everyday
is open,
fear disappears,
and every rejection
and every disappointment
becomes an affirmation

of why you don’t care,
of why it’s better to live a wild life
on this wild planet,

to keep on living as hard as you can,
as deep and wild and beautiful
as you possibly can.

dark notes
come off my hands,
try for light,
closed eyes
feel
the
changes…

put down guitar and start writing this
with
Morning View
in headphones,

i know i got the blues
when i’m listening to
the
incubus
morning view
album
while writing about this.

i should never say or do anything ever again.

Feel myself
reverting
into
introversion,
or am i just stoned right now?

Alone for
10 days
wandering,
thinking of a million things,
my last night on the road before coming home,
new environments
incredible stimuli
for thought,
that is
if i
care
to think,
and not just float around
distracted by pretty colors
and food.

I try to dig on different states
as if they were their own countries,
and try the local cuisine
and talk to the local people,
try to see who they really are
listen to random bits
of conversations
and look at what they wear
and what kind of jokes they make
what kind of movies they like to quote.

Working class cowboys with cowboy hats,
city slicker wannabe marlboro men,
preppy college kids,
a punk rock scene,
a scenester scene,
and a stoner scene i heard the radio refer to as “freakies”
post-modern hippies with dreads
and tribal piercings and hemp clothes,
sidewalk guitarists with hats open on the ground full of money;
and there was a bohemian take over of the
East side of Downtown Denver,
where all the beatnik hipster types get together
and eat gourmet versions of everything
and drink the best micro-brewed beers out of Fort Collins
Colorado,
and quote lines from Bill and Ted’s Excellent Adventure
and Dumb and Dumber.

II.

It rained my last night in Denver,
so i put my rain jacket on
and walked down the street
and went to the little official liquor store
filled with wine
and fridges full of mostly locally brewed craft beers
that are over 3-5.
“Hey man, do you guys have any dry days in Colorado?” I ask.
“No, not in Colorado.”
“Cool, I’ve been to places and they’ll be dry on Sundays.”
“No. We used to, then we got rid of that law. What we have here is
the three-five law.”
“What’s the three-five law?”
“7-11 and grocery stores are only allowed to sell pisswater
at three point five percent alcohol. Only stores like mine are allowed to sell anything stronger.”
“No shit?”
“They’re trying to pass a bill to allow all stores to sell all liquor.”
“That’s cool.”
“Not for me.”
“Oh Yeah no kidding huh? You go into business for yourself based on that law,
and then they pass that bill and you go out of business. That’s bullshit.”
“You got it. I don’t think it’s going to pass though.”
“Well i hope not for your sake bro. Take it easy man.”
“You too.”
And i leave
with my six-pack of Samurai Rice Ale.

I thought i’d seen a pizza spot nearby when i was wandering around on my bike
and so i took a shot
and walked up one more block
and there it was
still open,
four hipster employees
one mopping,
one making pizzas,
and one running
the register.
The fourth one i guess was just getting off his shift
or on a break
cause he made himself a pizza.
Anyway,
when i walk in, the guy mopping,
who has a big handlebar mustache
says,
“Hey, what’s up man!” And put his hand up for a high five like he knows me,
so i give him a good one and say,
“What’s up dude? How’s it going?”
“What are you doing bringing beer here? We sell beer.” He said, dejected.
I laughed, “My bad bro.”
“It’s ok this time. Thanks for coming in the rain.”
“No worries dude.”

No one was in there
but i was good luck.
After i ordered a veggie pizza
three more people came in.
“Do you know what you want?” He asked a customer.
“Not yet.”
“Ok you have three seconds to order or you don’t get anything.”
The guy looked a little surprised.
“Alright you don’t get anything.”
I laugh.
The customer’s still confused.
“I’m just kidding. Here’s a menu, take your time.”

Life doesn’t seem too bad in Denver.
Everyone rides bikes
and everyone has beards,
so i fit in when i showed up unshaven
riding around on my bike
with hipster glasses.

Then i shaved and
it was all over,
before i could be mistaken
as a serious artist with a beard
taking art photos with my digital camera,
now i was just a fuckin tourist
taking pictures with my cell phone.

III.

Denver Colorado:
a nice place
full of just as much fucked up shit
as any other city;
watched the local news…
don’t want to repeat what happened,
far too graphic for any poetic prose piece,
same
random-violence
that occurs in cities all around the world:
robberies, rapes, and murders.

You can’t escape it,
people are beautiful
and they are desperate grotesque monsters.

when
it is set free
it flows like a river
flooding
valley.

i am in
a place
where the rivers
flow
like molten lava
down bursted mountainsides,
fire
consuming.

Speaking in tongues
talking to gods
channeling
picking up
what the world
is putting down.

Going with it
is where it’s at
and im with it
im down with
it.

Who doesn’t
want to be loved every single day?

How can
i expect anyone to care about me?

Who am i if i am nothing to me?

I am a completely unique and different human being
than anyone else on Earth.

So are you.

“Don’t Expect,”
a non zero sum game
that would freeze
the worlds most powerful supercomputer,
with no determinable outcome,
emotion
giving depth
and meaning
to
logic,

ii.

as the next day may never come,
i might get blown away
by a madman,
or i might see the next day
alone as i am
for the rest of my life
the next day the same as before
the next day
or the next day
or the next

this is all i can do,
everyday
i think beautifully of you
and simply leave it at that,
no worries about anything
you can do anything and everything
you can leave me alone
forever
i’ve already been alone forever
so what’s another day
without you
but the
same as
before.