Can I Value?

24th March 2009

Hello world.
The familiar drop of a hole from a platform.
Bricks that keep on flying.
My toes squish together between the metal bars
     and the seat in front of me.
So drastically anti-social.
Toe stuck in vacuum cleaner,
     like a hand waving out of a dirty window.
Holes and glue where a handle once was;
A window shit, no longer open.
Racing a car on a different road,
     not familiarly at a height.
Not used to the altitude of an alternate spot.
Stopping to see a better view than
     the dodgy limestone grey of
     the bland little transport building,
     where several pass away.
So often a shout, as the wave of a flag
echoes through the grey.
For I didn’t know that such an act would
     condemn me all the same.
Two sides of a minor world.
For I stand on one, ready to move, to depart.
I am stopped by a toothless question.
No, I don’t have any money, why you.
I stand on this side to leave and try to walk away.
The question passes by and my logic
     makes me try;
     no one could be less daft?
And therefore I continue to another small
     world, that ceases to roll and turn.
And I keep flying, and watching,
     to forget –
     to forget what I’ve left behind.

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