TRIP In this bumpy back Van Go I sit here Drifting in and Out of consciousness The lull of tires On pavement Putting me in a trance Hours pass Now measured in miles Not minutes The steady scratch of Pen against paper Mapping my thoughts Alone in a crowd The movement cures me Of aching thoughts I never want to stop Please just let me be A passanger forever Hurtling through time The destination always ahead But never arrived Sitting quietly Contentedly As the world passes me by With no obligation to be anywhere Except be