THE LONG EXODUS OUT

The long exodus out. Refined and stalled and not quite sure. This too vivid piece of day smacks of spite and grit. This distance covered by the two of us is formed up and solid. The only sure thing now is a daydream of some other piece of tomorrow, packed in and filled up with the laughter of two small children. They will smile just like their mom. They will look at the sky with quiet contemplation. This they got from me. We will have given it to them in our best, lazy, Sunday conversation. Will away all these hard things that creep into a tired and tried out mind. Help me face a world that tilts and wiggles and squirms under the pressure to have it all figured out.
Test crash split in two several times over and left a giant green swirl in the once placid sea of self control and reason. Logic has never before betrayed me. Emotions always have. I give it all away these days and stand too damn still to make any comments, let alone the right one. The left side of sanity stood up and left the party while grumbling something about needing to scrounge some green to pay the man and have his electricity turned back on. The silly ass didn’t even eat his cake. And everyone knew he had it too.
Slippery sorry and red cheeks. I wish I knew how to make all the dreams come true. I used to just do it. Whatever. It just did not matter then. Their expectations had all been thwarted by green hair and Camel Cigarettes. I had everyone so fooled and those days were ran through and through with idiots and bad ideas. With wide open roads and wispy nights, all crowded with spirit and youth and no one to blame but me. It was a day in the life of no compromise and no one really cared. There are no regrets, just all new days with a new deck of cards. And it seems that I’ve lost the instructions on how to play this game. I hope you know that I am trying. The time it takes to rebuild an ideal is heavy and, on those days when I do not know where to turn, it weighs me down.
I never could fool you. Except for when I painted the hubcaps on my car black to match the paint job. You said that it looked so white trash. I laughed on the inside and reminded myself that I can make art too. I used to do it all the time, all stupid and on the spur of the moment. I did anything that sparked that spot of my liver where all my dreams of being an astronaut hide away.
It’s a long road out. Let it all run by the car window, the sunsets and the purple mountains all. Ride along and keep only one loose hand on the wheel. We try. We love. We just do not know how to get from here to there, and I didn’t want to spend the cash to buy a map. Instead, I bought a cold soda and a candy bar.
The grit I have already covered, but I cannot make any sense of this nitty. Back to the basics then? I suppose so. Surely I can try to let something loose. The long trip out seems to mean something to me, but I can’t get a handle on it. I seem to be waiting for it to happen to me this time. No choice in the matter really. I’m just standing on the corner waiting for this light to stop blinking. Just standing still. This bit of joy that I have found seems fragile and so brand-new. No sudden moves please, and absolutely no flash photography.
This exodus from old pictures and old scribbles will be the start of everything new and exciting. The hard part comes in finding a way not to let go of who I used to be. The hard part comes in being the first one of us to grow up. You go. I’ll stay.
I’ll stay here and make my life work with my bunker. Here we go.