fortune and flavour

dragging a long taste into the garden
the little kingdom of the elite
the place they make their plans and
break promises like crumbling walls
the look back from here to the beginning of time
the bang was too big to measure
anything acceleration could only increase

and the diamonds you find under the melody
the hair and the clothes move beyond the lyric
what they know is what they see and hearing
is unkind to the geriatric
that first sign of failure
the dust in your nostril fails to irritate
the motes in your eye seem amusing
if only vague and unpaid

the broken plates you walk on
the chipped cups and sliced drinking glasses
here to test you
the wakefulness of beginnings and the sleep
of carrying on like yesterdays in endless sequences
of awakenings and dreams

the pages of turned soil
the weeks ahead waiting for a bus
when you feel that the trains are too mechanical
you crave nature and it makes you wait only
to stray from its path behind
the places you know
you take streets that they do not
you take places you need
you take routes through dark sadness
and say goodbye to every day the same
an hello to brief reason

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