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By Mike O’Connell 10/13/16

I hitchhiked across the world, once,
looking for those high school selves,
I reluctantly left, so far behind.
Those younger incarnations were
long gone, looking for an optional
existence, in another place and time.
It was confusing, on occasion,
as I was not certain it was the me
I thought I knew.
I failed the adventure of the venture,
cold, hungry, with no place to sleep,
or hide. Kerouac was little comfort
in the wind and rain. I was drenched
in loss, jailed in Louisianaa,
and survived on peppers and catsup
on the backroads, weaved through
texas. I left one coast, to join
myself on another, only to wander off
again, landing here and now, in
an unfamiliar embodiment,
learning about all of the places
I have been,
and left,
so far behind.

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