travels
‘travels’
Neither here nor there
The feel of fair air in my hair
On the road mode
Left the abode to compose this ode
One hand-rolled cigarette
Some new music in the tape deck
If I dared to invest then
Perhaps I’d face some regret
So
Connect the dots
Be they friends or robots
Small talk in earnest
The space walking internist
Free fall down the chasm
Insubstantially dark phantasm
Cares and sin to the wind
I’ve been. stayed and left
Thus
I’m traveling on whims
And forgetting the rest.
