The Kingdom of Nowhere
I see a path before us, one that is carved in chalk.
I see a bold red traffic cone, and a path that ends in dust.
I see a sign before me, warning me not to go down this road.
I see darkness beyond the trees, and a sign on a pole.
I see paste-white branches, and the blue of the night.
I see a wood so deep, morning nowhere in sight.
I see sunset tulips, before a purple sun.
I see a gift for me, and a heart to be won.
I see mornings in snow, and frost-jammed escalators.
I see blocked chimneys, and the date on this picture.
I see wind turbines in the fog, and wind wipers swishing.
I see fingerprints on glass, and the first raindrops hitting.
I see busted-up hotels, and graffiti on roads.
I see a fire starting, where it's warm and where it's cold.
I see lightning that strikes, beyond beaches without people.
I see Virgin Marys on planes, and shrines to good and evil.
I see tattoos faded, shopping carts deserted,
Ghost towns flooded, love it or hate it.
I see stories so bleak, technology that reeks,
Suburbs asleep, aside from you and me.
I see nails on iron, beehives on wires,
Digital liars, machinated pyres.
I see rupturing glaciers, leaning pillars,
Mountains of tires; whatever I desire.
I see roots on mangroves, above the roofs of golf fields,
Atop the last of my house, what I see when I fall.
I watch the ghastly moonrise, a prison for our eyes,
Tracks running to our right, my resting place when I die.
I am told the track is closed, that the PC is sold,
That my model is old, that I can't walk this road.
I seek the attic above the stairs, the fun house at the fair,
the balloon in the air, the kingdom of nowhere.