and I need a break.
here, in Canaan Valley, the pancakes are bruce,
but bountiful.
an hour ago,
I was crying in Florida
and an hour before that
I was crying in New York City.
now eating leftover chinese food
and loving it,
because it marks the mission
of men without women, running.
soon we'll be in Kentucky,
and only I will care,
and next we'll be in Kansas
a long way form there.
soon, with the help of drugs,
sleep will find me,
despite the last poem,
and I will hopefully wake excited as a dumb kid.