i am in the woods
just like thoreau recommended
i didn’t give up my life or stuff
but for this morning, i pretended
i’m out here transcendenting
quiet by an early fire
all my dreams got stuck in branches
peaceful calm my lone desire
all the birds start talking shit
all the bugs are giving side eye
but i’m shutting out distractions
well, i’m giving it a try
so when i’m gone and far away
back in the city i call home
my blood and guts are forest lush
no matter where i roam