johnsonboy

Sometimes, you think you've learned your lesson.
You have it all figured out
Then you see quite clearly that you didn't have it figured out at all.
So you incorporate that lesson and go out into the world.
Get hammered by it, and, like the rabbit you are, make a run for it.
Hole up somewhere and chew on it for a while.
Space out, wander aimlessly, become involved in things for which there is no justification whatever. Build mud pies and carry pine cones home.
Become a masturbation artist, a diddler, a fooler-around.

But even that doesn't work You abandon it, and four months later find yourself on a mt. bike pulling a trailer crammed with food, socks, your most portable poems, and one of those aluminum espresso steamers. You can use it on a campfire.
You stay on the road for most of a month. When you call her, she doesn't really talk to you. you realize most everything you've managed to accumulate in life is probably already charred at the center of an ash-ring in the middle of a rainy meadow. Those two redwoods, so much taller than anything around, still stand at the meadow's limit, shrouded in their own whirling emminence.
When your camp is all there is left, you get pretty humble.
You don't mind eating a hot dog if someone offers it. Or a pear.