opening ashes scattered darkly

outside inside this winding path,

from these chaotic skies

coming from these lost rivers 

no one knew of or could watch burn

he was direct and level

not wanting to be heard round here,

only wishing to climb higher, unmolested

no dimes in his pockets,

no need em (no cover charge),

breath's free and easy,

death's gonna happen anyway-

earth on fire 

realizing other Oceans

and all at once his discovery was seen by anyone brave enough to unzip eyelids...

you know, Kenneth,

you  were there to help plug freedom in the wall

after the party lights burned out

everyone standing on their heads

waitin around for Godot to come fix it

I could've been, naturally, there as well,

but too impatient to wait

I dove inside another broken doorway

fell onto my knees

whispering  soft and low so anyone could hear easy:

“…rush on to local color ways

push aside your subjective hometown streaks…”

“who knows the the way inside to those rains outside?”

“who believes in himself enuf to climb out from his eyes and take a see?”

“where will you take yourself when you can’t pay for the price of admission?”

then someone remarked: “isn't everything free anyway?

so I got back up on my feet and flew away...

once outside it all,

the trapeze wires were mostly frozen 

the deep birds had all flown north for winter-

I knew then they must know the way,

they know the way

Paterson, 1969