by Stefon Napier09 Apr 2014
For a while, everything flew because there was scarcely ground.
Times perhaps, go everywhere
Though there were delays invariably we’d arrive, always at the same time.
Coming from somewhere very high.
This ticket purchased goes elsewhere. Elsewhere at nine.
Yes I picked it, I chose.
Claim every baggage that is mine.
Yes I’m going away at nine.
I do not see it coming. No, it has not yet arrived.
Yet what distance already that in our minds is contrived.