BARBARIC YAWP

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POESIE HERESY

Whitman called for

a barbaric yawp

so I yawped & yowled

& became Horatio Algers on acid;

the cynicism; the brutal persuasion;

I howled at the moon

until it howled back

in an exasperated mood.

 

The eternal effort to elevate

my spirits to another level

took on preposterous proportions

but it weren’t enough to turn me back.

The twisted stylings entered

onto the page without hesitation.

 

I’ll plead the fifth if they ask

and I’ll skip Dodge altogether;

preferring to seek new horizons.

I wander out into the cold;

my bare feet stepping in the snow

creating a numb sensation.

 

The madness lends itself well

to numerous discoveries

and my quest for my soul

is as boundless as this dream

that fills American highways

and leads a pure trail

from one coast to the other

and following mountain trails.

 

I am left in wonderment

at the farms & rivers & trees

leading to canyons and deserts

and sandy shores facing sunsets.

My crying into the wind

is unrewarded by success

but the tom-tom beats out loud

as the heart continues ticking

in this neverending journey.

 

 

 

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sootyash's picture

So then...

The journey just continues and continues as a long strange trip? 


© Sootyash All rights reserved.

fuche_bu's picture

it has been a long strange

it has been a long strange trip as Jerry G would say