I walk through the woods, almost every other Sunday.
It's the best way I know to prepare for Monday
I think about my children
who are at home with their father some 70 miles away.
I think about a marriage,
the one I wanted gone, almost a year ago to this very day.
It's a foolish foolish thing to live from any place
other than the soul.
It's incredibly hard to negotiate or barter with those who don't.
I walk through the woods with nothing.
I'm looking for deer hunters
and other cowards who walk with guns.
I push my legs as far as they will go
until it burns