There was a time when I longed

To be on the road

To travel from Bear Mountain

To Denver to San Francisco and back

I dreamed of dark coffee houses

Thick with cigarette smoke

And an upright bass, bongos, poetry

And hipsters, beaten down, smoldering with rage

Where isolation, alienation, and Thorazine seemed romantic

Where potato salad and Dadaism intersected on the grounds of Greystone

Where thoughts were like yellow roman candles exploding in your mind

Where games of William Tell were played and justice was arbitrary

Where madness seemed synonymous with living, talking and being saved

Oh how the road beckons

Intoxicating and enchanting

Anonymous and senseless

On the holy road