Backpack Philosophy

Pack up and go, that’s how I roll

The wheels on the bus are turning.

I gotta fly, don’t ask why

Kiss me goodbye one last time

I’m on my way.


The gears of infinite time

Never rest

Just keep clicking into place

Clocks wait for no man.

Not even the backpack traveler.


A well-worn wallet containing currencies

decorated with conflicting leaders

World banking in my back pocket.

I am the black-haired stranger.


Passport handled by the entire U.N.

Stamped inks from the finest natural sources

Forehead stamped



I fear if

I don’t visit the world now

They’ll cease to exist.



All devoured with time,

Erased from textbooks.


I see men buy mail-order brides

Wedding stories far more interesting

When the relationship is spontaneous. Not paid for.

Ignorance is inexcusable,

Living in the same area code for a lifetime unreasonable.


If we lived in another’s shoes, or moccassins, or chonclas,

Maybe we’d have a little more difficulty

Bombing the house with the floor that bore those soles.

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