We travel. We travel well.
One meant to move in straight lines
By regular reckoning,
Became too calculating,
Got hung up on summing up,
Sunk in consideration,
Turned up on the other side
Of the world, as casual
As you please. Might as well play
It to the end, whaddaya
Reckon? It’ll keep moving,
As we all do. It will mean
Something else again. The wisps
Of all the places it’s been
Will cling to it. Consider,
However, you won’t be here.
By the time the meaning turns
Again, you’re out of the way.
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