Even in this sight

consuming forest I feel


I feel that I am in


because I have a car

and a road to all

the ends of the earth.

But here I say is not

the end of this world

but the beginning.

The end is in the cities

and roadside towns

that only serve machines.

They fill the tanks

with liquid fire

and fill stomachs with the same.

Only to point a body

in a direction

that is rarely forward.

So much before me

nothing left behind but

litter and memories:

the refuse of the mind

both decompose

at the same rate

for the same purpose:

to purify.

The memories that leave first

the mind-dump into the atmosphere

are quickest

to disappear from earth.

They are those that don't

damage the earth, they hurt

no one and no one is touched.

the ones that stay are recyclable

they are reused throughout your

life popping up, but hurting

no one else.

The ones you can't get rid of

go into landfills.

They will not disappear, but they are gone

from sight.

They will be in your soul as long

as the earth will hold its refuse.