Some say it’s impossible
to explore every land, to sail into tropical and ice-filled waters
to fly above countries, in a hot air balloon
to violate laws, with impunity.
In the early hours, between 3 and 6 AM
I wake, before the garbage man, and the noises of the outside world
are like an alarm clock, at regular times.
I’m between half-sleeping and half-waking
Most people give up and drink coffee
I lie in bed, listening to my imagination, to short-stories of Hemingway
that were too boring to listen to, when fully awake.
In the tired state
my will succumbs to a short story
making me patient, to learn, what can only be understood
when I can’t sleep.
The day is 70 degrees
the blue lake is bluer than the blue sky
the girls giggle in bright-colored bikinis
while I listen to my friend
about his relationship.
I watch the girls
I want to explore this world
and not myself.
I’m so tired of the inner dialogue.
I want to store-up
so I’ll have them, when I can’t sleep
in my wheel-chair
in the gray and silver nursing home.
I’ll be the man who does the jumble
with a satisfied smile
searching for words
his mixed-up life
in the morning.