Poem

Yes...and no

I'm thinking back to that time
and wondering,
"Did I behave properly?"
I'm crunching some numbers and doing the math
and curious if I was wearing a winter coat
when you signed the lease on my behalf.

I rode shotgun through the hills with you
flying along like the Burrito Bros.
Was it six weeks?
Was it six months?
This actually scares me a bit.

We burned incense to remind ourselves
that this life is temporary.
So much was happening in our heads.
I was gathering all these new smells
and still keep them in old wooden boxes
just like the ones in that ancient spice shop I stumbled upon
in Cairo years ago.
I remember the one box, way up top,
labeled "monkey brains".
How appropriate.

She told me I was an old soul
and she was dead serious.
Things didn't add up but I guess
that's what happens when an old soul is young and green.
.....

Our friend was lost in an obvious way
stoned and wandering the streets of San Francisco.
He was taken by the right people for the job
abducted by aliens like you and me.
So he gave it all up.
"Whatever I need, they will provide",
was how it went,
"and by the way, if you sell some crap for us,
you will find heaven",
or perhaps just a cold, wet road
upon which speed freak truckers
and quarreling couples
hatch big plans of total insignificance.

So we got him back
on his own terms.
We said nothing.
We were just cool cats in our own neighborhood.
.....

Then the caravan seemed to appear out of thin air.
So I told him,
"I quit man"
and I don't even recall packing my bags.
Did I at least tell you, "this chapter's cooked"?
Just like that I gave up free wheat grass shots
in exchange for laying on my back
staring up at high desert clouds
through the open roof rag top of a micro bus.
I felt the Grapevine for the first time and
the specter of Jim Morrison rose up before me
and I had to think to myself,
"You really had the balls to believe that you owned this town?"
Whiskey is good for you if you have a cold
or if you need a leg amputated.

When all was said and done,
I bid my farewells in the deep dark night
after being frightened by human behavior,
and left once again without thinking.
Did I leave a hole?
Or had the hole already filled itself in?

So again, I ask you,
"Did I behave properly?"
I imagine what your answer is:

"Yes...and no."