Hmm. I’m beginning to get annoyed with the lack of formatting on this thing–I wanted to do something weird with it for this poem but it’s fairly fickle. I’ll figure something out. In the meantime, a rough poem. A little poseur, maybe. Needs some work. And weird indents.


THERE IS A WORLD. There is a world behind your shoulder. a World. Find it and you find endless, endless, endless. But always behind you.

Act I:

I NEVER KNEW YOU but I remembered your name. Your name. Back. Back to that world. If I had, if I had just, just turned, just turned, just turned a bit more and walked through your path, clear cut through, would I know you now? Why can’t we run into other people more often? I could always hold myself back but I could never. Could never. Could never keep going. Agility disrupts happenstance disrupts time disrupts love. Why can’t we know other people more often? Why can’t we see other people more often? Disrupts your heart. Isn’t life. Rhythmic?

Musical Interlude:

To find yourself in perfect rhyme in time in time but not a line to seem you lost but what you found in time in time but not a line to leave what’s gone to leave it dry no time no time but stronger lives in fact we do not see behind in time in time but not a line.

Act II:

Wherein we forget ourselves, in hopes of forgetting others. You can’t decide in hindsight, so don’t bother trying, kid. Look alive, you’re moving. Trains, trains, I always loved trains as a kid. There’s something to be said for never stopping unless there’s something to be found. Pennies on a track won’t derail the train, but don’t worry, it’s human nature to try. To stop a line from being endless, one must find the beginning.


How do lines cross if you never turn?