Where I’ll be going

 

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Where I’ll be going

This afternoon

After visiting my tired old father

And my mother,

searching on television

Her youngish lost dreams?

Where will I go?

Where will I go

If my fate

Coerces me here

Where struggle is harder

Against prejudice

Against habitude

Against the foresaid?

My body suffers

From constraint continence

‘cause I don’t Know the way

To astral projection

For escaping the world.

I so can’t get

any stuff

To keep me on

And got no place

To go to

This afternoon

And I might be writing somewhere:

“When I’ll be going?”