for days I’d stare at the downward pathway I’ve built in my head
everywhere i go
it’s all i see
maybe one day I’d get to step on it
on its wooden chunks:
they’ll be made up of willow and ash
and will have enough space in between to grow Leaves of Grass
and I’ll follow it downward—my own pathway to paradise
till my toes curl in the hot sand and the sweet sun will pierce through my parasol
I’ll be able to finally start contemplating jazz here…
I’ll be living on happy
living on free
for nothing keeps me more alive than that blessed blue sea