Nowhere Near

I've never really listened to the
curvature of the earth which
comes & goes out here on the west
coast
            further enhanced by a variable
compression rate that can only be offset by
learning to endure the kindness of strangers

& so to understand the relevance of monastic
palm trees standing outside the Kung-Fu Taqueria
requires the application of counterweights
along with enough saltwater tequila to strip the paint from
the walls of your soul
                                         or at least enough to skim the 
bliss off our inherent failure like mist 
                          sheering the pavement from the sky

& those trapeze clouds strung from morning 
to dusk with the cigarette girl caressing my indecision

There are other more expedient methods
I'm sure but
                   as for me I've
                                      always preferred the scenic route