i could not conform to the expectations of normalcy. my choice was to submit to examination and treatment by psychiatrist or break free from conformity. an alternative opportunity presented itself. the highway was busy with explores , searching something righteous in america.
so then i let poetry guide me into liberty and joy.
if poetry herself was not my muse i would never have crossed the plains so often. i would have never sought refuge in mountains. i would never have gone to boston or fort lauderdale. i would never had gotten ill in new orleans. i would never had gone to the wildcat ranch or joined gypsy mike's magic circus.
if i had submitted, would poetry have wept for me?
but i affirmed my trust in her, and so did arrive at the cloudhouse bookstore, and i did follow her to alcatraz for sunrise ceremony with drum and pipe. then did hope rise up and join her with a purpose for me. hope joined me to the red road and the yellow flag, the green flag and the white light.
thru the decades poetry has carried me to peace and comfort with the world. so for poetry i empty my heart to the future. for poetry i paint the imagination with sun rising on justice. if poetry will reform the human condition, then you will find me there with her for evermore.