Melville's map

Ironic, that
I am looking for the path
slogging in the heavy mud
following the routes and desires
the ruts and rocks filling the way
Sitting amongst all these maps
and going nowhere but
back to where I have been
"It is not down in any map
true places never are"
The unknown howls up ahead
like a fiend in the dark
I have got to get moving
the map says it is right
the pulse speaks of what
lies ahead
Nothing and everything
depending on the fork in that road
"It is not down in any map
true places never are."