I need to put some distance in my legs

Have my mind reconstructed from dead to live

Take the clothes from my skin and burn the lot

Till everything becomes light with light so

Walking on air through Pessoa land becomes like floating in space until I hit that big old church

And there I will get down on my knees and

Kiss the feet of Saint James and blow the rest of the night on a Spanish bender to end benders ,

Keep walking is the sound in my ear , crashing waves from the Iberian coast

Smash into my skull till I travel to

The blood and wine of Spain’s gypsy heart to find that tree of Lorca’s soul wondering does it still weep blood for the lost

Then more drinking to whatever needs the drinking to

Returning, I think of Laurie Lee’s As I walked out

one midsummer morning as the plane floats over Malaga

The facists are still here , they wear the suits of the damned

I was made to journey, a drifter not comfortable with scene or glory

I just want to walk .