time for a journey

My choice, if I have one, is to live like rain, bringing life, covering the earth, covering everything.

_____

A place you can go. (a haibun)

It was a box, like many other boxes, plain cardboard. Looking inside, I could see that it was full of arrows, but not arrows for archery. The box was full of arrows for pointing out which way to go. My soul asked, "What will you do now? Where will you go?" My soul likes to ask me questions. "Maybe it's time for a journey," I answered, and I threw the box up into the air as high as I could. Arrows fell to the earth like clues, and I set out walking. 

There is no path, no road,
and there's no good advice either -
walker, watch your step!

_____

Daylight is knocking at the door, but I will not open it. I’m in love with the darkness. The whales of morning bellow and blow, these are just moans from hell. Time is a river that cannot be dammed, but I am a man, and I can be damned. And maybe I am damned; time will tell. These thoughts form a piano, and a naked woman bangs out a song. Night flies through the sky like Superman on a mission. The stars have extraterrestrial eyes, and they whisper, "We will watch over you." I don't really give a damn about the whispers. I don't really give a damn about anything more than sunrise. 

_____

The dog head rises into the sky. Is it a balloon? We watch from a low place on the earth as it rises into the gray sky and is gone. A dog head, gone to heaven.

by James Lee Jobe

Poverty is the parent of revolution and crime.

-Aristotle

Johnny Cash - Cocaine Blues

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James