almost everyone wearing different clothes
living in the past is alright if the present is unbearable
summer vacation days full of nothing special except happiness
nights when with the fresh breezes
radio softly playing some good old songs
and all seemed good in the universe
it was a piece of pie in the sky celestial stratosphere
then it was time to go to bed
in the morning, everything felt different and as hopeless as before
I always felt a bad poem that made no sense
was better than anything in this world that wasn’t poetic at all
I was at a train crossing now, a long long long long freight train it was
I got there too late to get in front of it
so I sat there and smelled its beautiful perfume in the air
listened to the boxcars squeak past moaning and groaning
when it passed, I was in no hurry to move
came home and it seemed to be a perfect afternoon
for burning leaves and piles of painful memories in a smoky fire
but asbestos memories never burn
whiteish gray clouds of smoke rising and drifting away into space
I want to ride them up to golden heaven station and the glittering stars above
