Unfinished

Aw Christ,
cast me off onto some road
along blue skies and
plains without fences
and it's just green flat
golden free land as far as
my eyes can see, which I pray is
too far to follow--great beautiful
America that I've been chasing
after for God knows how long
and which I fear I'll never
find or catch or run fast enough
to escape what's coming for me--
a concrete existence and bottom
of my soul unhappiness forever--
I see it before me and it stings my eyes,
the future, is it out there?--or here?--
and it's like I have no choice.