Far Away Lands

unsettling sheep

grazing in pastures

green blades spread thought through chlorophyll veins

that look

that bleak look

baa

do they know they’re eating ideas?

digestion process

unconventional separated

they should be running

jump the fence and run

but they just sit there

and i know not their number

if i could count them like clouds

no

they don’t take to the air

they are fog

and they limit my sight

where’s my rod?

my staff sits unfinished

buried in a blue box

the place i want to go

that i can’t get to

where there is no work

and time is disregarded

if it even exists

maybe the sheep ate my ticket

i missed the boat anyway

was it tasty?

replace intention destination

but the method

not the journey

these roads won’t be replaced

you could pour the asphalt down

and the roots of the trees

straddling paths providing canopy

will burst forth from soil and clay

returning the road that once was

to its proper direction and shape

stupid sheep

Author's Note

One of these days, I'll revise this and add some punctuation...