How long will the fire flow
how long will the words last
how long will this go on
how long till I break fast
where will this train go next
following the damn tracks
armed with nothing but text
fighting only parallax
I haven’t got a blueprint
you can see there’s no plan
I can’t take the plain hint
succumb give up be a free man
seeing what cannot be unseen
no line not uncrossed before
still whatever I’m not clean
and I suspect I know what’s in store
one grim fantasy or another
yet another long goodbye
and as clichés go here’s the mother
I make book and don’t ask why
No comments:
Post a Comment