Yeah, so I got nothing

Last night, I realized I needed a poem to turn in for workshop and didn't have anything in presentable order.

This was at, oh, eleven-ish.

Five hours later, I had something strange and lifted from a bunch of places and weirdly formatted and simultaneously the most abstract and the most concrete poem I've ever written.

It's in need of massive revisions, mostly for language, because I think I like most of the experimental rhythm and form and am going to keep it relatively intact.

Anyway, I'm pasting it in here because I'm terrified that I'll lose it somehow and it's about five solid hours of writing.  Yeah, I don't know what this is.

Terzetto
     to Edward “Son” House

[0.1.1  walking]

it’s just that sometimes
    when you look too hard
the horizon disappears

and that sometimes
    when you squint
all you see is the journey

( tell me who's that writing )