Back from the war
I stayed stoned
The next ten years

I sought nothing but to be out
In far solitude
Or to live lost on the train platform
Airport commuter courthouse
Hospital prison detention
College clinic coffeeshop
Driver license waiting room

Waiting on the sure and unpredictable
Uncertainty
Having long out-wiled the finite
All salvation I will ever need
Is from myself

Southern Gothic crossroads in the night
State line rest stops, drinking
Chalices of inevitable bitter grounds
From brown, paper sacks

The next 10 years
Steady on towards
Zero Kelvin entropy
Nirvana ego-clearance center
Myth and splendor

All must go