walk

Train To Ether

old house new tree

new house old car

neat patch

rubbish heap

I can't listen to music

because there's too much playing

in my head

I can't wear perfume

because my sense is

ultra sensitive

cold heart

wet shoes

creating a prostitute

of a lonely soul

sliding along

in abstract continuance

progress in

singular dimension

wholly confined

to regurgitated attitude

Godman you will

never understand.

city night

suburb day

distant sirens

whistling winds

chirping birds

rustling trees

faint engines

metal squeals

rumbling vibrations

inhaling me