i went to the forest

i went to the forest yesterday in this
banal mission to get the fuck out of dodge.
except that dodge is in arizona
and i'm in the south.

dripping with talent and heart
maybe some overly new age version of myself
the artist as a young architect
sitting and biding my hours
tick tock
tick

i don't want to be this afraid

new lets be real, people,
i was in a forest with two dogs,
some fruit, cheese, crackers,
and no tent poles.
but i had a rope and hung that shit up.
strung it.

and aware of myself not saying a thing
aware that i could not remember
what i had been thinking about just then.
just then.
and wondering if this is how the mind
resets itself.

not thinking about the infinite
or extending my intention
or breathing through the contractions.
this has not been the most graceful chapter.
i have memories of a busted up side wall -
my truck dusty - in a dream last night
i have been recovering from
so many things.

i am choosing to loose count.

and in the middle of all of this barreling through space -
my voice.
sometimes so sore that talking makes it hurt.