i'm going to pack my stuff up
throw out materialistic shit
like this macbook and this ipod
and this itouch and this iphone
and this ipad and this imac
i will deactivate my gmail accounts
deactivate my facebook and e-mail them
asking to delete it and i will stop using
twitter and my updates will have stopped
at 6,452 tweets last updated august 7th
but i will buy a blackberry and use foursquare
so people can track where i am but i will not
know where i am
i'm going to pack long johns and a winter coat
and buy an atv to go to maine and
get myself purposely lost and write
naturalistic poetry
i will make a lot of money
and write meaningful poetry about trees
and the uncouthness of men
and the infidelity of women
i will probably die alone
or i will begin to have a relationship
with my mother earth and i will live naked
during the hot summer days and drink nothing but
stream water and bathe every two weeks
i will smell like dirt and i will smear myself in mud
and i will write poems caked in mud
i will write poetry in mud and it will be the epitome
of naturalistic poetry because it is made with real nature
not written in some acid-free leatherbound notebooks that
people carry around in williamsburg and portland
i will carve poems into tree trunks and when loggers come
by cutting trees down they will wonder who
wrote these poems and they will blame it on
intelligent bears or mentally superior indians
i think i will purchase a plane ticket to maine
and buy camping equipment
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