Today I left to lounge a lake,
the road read ‘Closed’, I slammed my brakes.
A big ol’ breath and turn around
and sing a song and flip a frown.
Drove myself to find some rain,
Prepped morning-start plans last night in my brain.
A tiny touch of sweat through shirt
and I will find my place on earth.
Ash or snow on this mountain?
Ice would melt, but I don’t see any smoke about.
I’ll probably never figure that one out.
I found a cell instead.
Chained donkeys twirling unmasked class acts
wearing childish, child made red caps.
Goodness, I had to get out of there.
Today I drove and drank some beans.
Through windshields I chart out what life means.
A mess of lines across the world,
it seems this thing has come unfurled.
Left that place, wound up at a jail.
Took a deep breath and set off a sail.
The blur that slept somewhere inside
awoke one day and rode the tide.
this is your life chuck johnson 