On "On The Road"

My bed is constantly changing...

I shut my eyes on couches without cushions, floors both hard and carpeted, in airports, apartments, airplane seats: middles, windows, and aisles, train booths, surf board bags, buses, beaches, camper vans, and back seats of cabs

Backpacks, sweatshirts, towels, and balled up t shirts become makeshift pillows

My clothes are worn day in and day out; stains like scars should be worn with pride and accompanied with a story

My hair can be shaped in any desired direction and as it grows longer, can soften the uncomforting blow of sleeping on a solid floor

With a little hunt and a bit of luck I find little gems for brekkys, lunches, dinners, and meals in between

Over these cheap local eats, coffees, and beers, I swap stories, converse worthwhile conversations, and compromise card games with complete strangers, fellow travelers, and solo wanderers

I crunch exchange rates, negotiate over pennies, and walk away with black bags, a full stomach, and a good buzz, if I was looking to find one

I’m not ready to say goodbye to an intoxicating amount of complete liberation and elation

See you later,

LB