Tuesday, September 28, 2010

I'm in a canoe




Im in my white body
with my cherokee blood.
My black soul reminded of
when I escaped from the hoods.
Drifting on water
stolen from illegals.
Wind from the flight
of Jonathan Livingston Seagull.
I can hear
Robert Pirsigs motorcycle pass.
I drink water
turned wine from an outdated flask.
I discuss Taoism
with tigger and Winnie the Pooh
as eye stare at the stars
on my back in a canoe.