rolling ever onward
across crusted iron railings
two lines merging into one
to become again two

railway tracks interwieving
shufling and shunting onwards
from and to each destination
in halfhearted littel bounces.

and so im left alone
pushed onwards in the night
rushed along these rusted tracks
from memory into memory

were any of them ever true
or were they dreams as im dreaming now
its said that it would take a lifetime
to find that one perfect blossom

past cars, buses, silent lamps
the more and less connected
this way and that jumbled
like half forgotten words

each tree or bush a separation
moving from everywhere to there
and here merely the nonexistence
of bated boredom: impatience

at here there and everywhere
at why where and neverthere
come high low and someplace else
just get me back to somewhere