Wednesday, December 31, 2008

Traveling Outside

Truth is eight times old
And this car goes three minutes per hour.
I can’t write a poem called Man Alone.
Bright city lights won’t let me,
And my craft is headed back to earth.
My shields are deeper within
Than they are wide
On the outside.
I’m widening my search,
And I haven’t found anything of which
A Time Traveler wouldn’t approve.
So I go back to the past
And wear my best clothes.
Shifts in space
Make my corpse full of surprises.
I step into it
And make everything happen.

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