I don't have enough
late nights,
very few
extra-productive
nocturnal rantings, and
hammerings on the keyboard.
I don't have the
scrolls
filled with my
philosophies
and stories.
I don't know
any professors
or gurus
or yogis,
to teach me
how to please
the elite, good-taste
coffee-drinkers
who might buy
my book.
i don't have
the beat's revolution
or skag, or the 69'ers
acid or Vietnam.
I don't have the
street kid background
or abusve parents,
or the old-money
blue-blooded
silver spoon.
but I do have
the everpresent
fear of
incarceraton
and the lingering
worry that hangs
low over my eyes.
I do have those
that by
aggregation
I'm reluctant to
lose.
I do have a will
to continue,
be it on
a dry-cracked
highway
or in the house
of The Devil Himself.
I have the
victory, the future,
the glory.
I have an Angel
and a Sprite
on my side.
I have karma
and God
and the universe.
I have blue
skies and
green rivers
and golden
stretches of harvested
soybean.
I have empty
railcars and
a hitch-hiker's
thumb, and
plane tickets
and gasoline.
I have sweet
honeysuckle vine,
and the smell
of the river
after a rainstorm.
For what I could
want, and for what
I have, I dedicate
this work
of attatchment
in hopes
of
letting
go.