suitcase full of crazy

A shout out to my friend Bob who impressed upon me the need to write down poetry that comes in the hypnagogic state. Last night as I was falling asleep the title of this poem came to me and I loved it so much I got up and crafted the poem. I polished it up a little bit before posting it here, but mostly this is how it was written last night.


suitcase full of crazy

we’ve all grown weary travellin’
on these gritty different streets
some of us have fancy shoes
but most are on bare feet
we think our destination
is the only place to be
but we’re always where we are
if we’d only look and see
in our quest we drive along
every should or could have been
the what-ifs or the maybes
and the dreams we don’t go in
we pick up bits of crazy
at convenient local stops
or wander down a detour
to find special crazy shops
and when our journey’s slowing
if we’re lucky, towards the end
we stow away our suitcase
and share crazy with our friends

ltv