Everything is cyclical
And the only absolute
Is just a brand name for vodka.
I am a new moon,
Wandering the thin borders
Between a dozen worlds.
Stopped searching and just flowed
Slow, inexorable, unstoppable
St. Lawrence River with a ravaged soul.
Standing on the train tracks
Gazing out at the grey world
Beyond the end of the tunnel
With celestial eyes always closing,
Distant soldiers retreating from a Waterloo
Of life, light, lies and reality
Like little locomotives
We barrel along separate tracks,
Ruined hopes and
Welcome to the 21st century train
Step on and be bored,
Xanax and champagne
Peanuts and covered windows
There won’t be a chance to stop
Until you reach the end of the line.
–Jack Blare, 2016