antsy pants

I want to run.
Like James Baldwin.
Running while standing still.
in himself.
for himself. 

No one likes a runner.
Everyone likes the idea of a runner.
I don't mean marathons.
which I have worked for almost a decade.
I mean fleeing.

from continent to peninsula.
state to town.
city to soul. 
does running help the heart?
I don't know.

but it helps the artist.
I want to run. 
like wolves hunting.
something they smell.
catchable but evasive.

even Kansas or Kentucky.
could kick me.
in the ribs.
just as hard.
as Florence or Fahud.

confirm my paradoxical need.
for a frantic nomadic lifestyle on the one hand.
and, on the other, my fervent desire.
to establish a stable domestic routine. 
in multiple locations.