At the station where all connections start
grey box transport
Comfort is the worst friend
even his brow is wrong
we get out of the bus at the wrong stop
so attached to the destination
We forget to love the scenery
Yet a map a comes together
Neighbor obsesses
Belonging feels good
the target somewhere between
reciprocity and clammering for common
Comfort is left behind
the bus leaks fuel
diesel in the nose
Gardens all the way to the airport
a thousand elderly tending them
effort in the bending and weeding
effort in the smile
effort in the denial
My toy a lost bus
lets call it hypocrisy
headed away from my destination
Tragically aging
The metro station spat like a homeless fiend
As I made my way up
The flower and grass covered road
each one of us seeks out a path
I look to the sun
who tells me his deepest secret
he´s just a piece of the illusion
grass and flowers need an excuse to live, it is it
If only I could have followed your directions
Have known my heart early and written the itinerary
Perfection the apricot lick
Pure self trickery
Just as the bus swerves desperately into denial avenue
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