Unfinished poem

I have trodden both tarmac and tarn; both are alike
immaterial to me, equally impotent to support or not
my unbeing

I have wandered both wilderness and walled jungle, caped
In insubstantiality I became neither predator nor prey and
Nothing hindered my course

I could burrow to Symzonia or break Newton’s shackles and
Make for Barsoom like a swashbuckler or refugee, earth and sky
Cannot obstruct what isn’t there

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JP