6137. FUGITIVE

FUGITIVE

I am a fugitive from reason, from

depth. I am a fugitive from sound and

matter; from terms of revolving credit,

from 30-day returns. I am a fugitive from

noble thoughts and singular deportment;

from looking back and having excuses at

the ready. I am a fugitive from religion, and

from concepts of ruling Gods themselves. I

am a fugitive from politics and a fugitive from

lies. I am a fugitive from municipal bonds and

library dates; a fugitive from travel and a fugitive

from rates. I am a fugitive from blindness, from

holidays and battle. I am a fugitive from coupons

and consumer-frenzy prattle; a fugitive from larceny,

a fugitive from death. I am a fugitive from banks and

motives, explanations and votives, doers and thinkers,

protesters and voters. Bullets and vests. False-face emoters.

I am a fugitive from fitness, a fugitive from glory; a fugitive

from fake Buddhism, and highways and tolls. I am a 

fugitive still on the run, and a fugitive from goals.

I am a fugitive from darkness, a fugitive from light,

a fugitive from sleeping...all through the night.