and here’s all these Millbrae and San Carlos neat-necktied producers and commuters of America and Steel civilization rushing by with San Francisco Chronicles and green Call-Bulletins not even enough time to be disdainful

till the time of evening supper in homes of the railroad earth when high in the sky the magic stars ride above the following hotshot freight trains

I swim out of it in afternoons of sun hot meditation in my jeans with head on handkerchief
on brakeman’s lantern
or on Book

I look up at blue sky of perfect lostpurity

the switching moves of boxcars in that little alley which is so much like the alleys of Lowell and I hear far off in the sense of coming night that engine
calling our mountains.

nobody knew or far from cared who I was all my life
three thousand five hundred miles from birth
opened up and at last belonged to me
in great america.

***

In spite of what I tell myself about where my primary focus is supposed to be, I am spending all of it on keeping this one cat I love best alive and as healthy as possible.

***

Being domesticated is a fantasy, and a rewarding one.

But in reality, it would require an ungodly amount of time and attention given freely by a tamer.

The kind I give Kali.

It wouldn’t be right or even be workable, to demand it.

So i continue down the wild path alone, as things stand.