Can’t recall a prior time
When geometry stood so still
As I was heading for the maps below
On a pittstop in milliseconds moving meters
Halfway ticket, destination unspecified
Seeing the seeds that residence has sowed
Homunculus looks from a projection room, 42 Pineal
Looks through goggled eyes
Hold on, straighten your knees
Don’t cross your legs and keep observance
Your spine’s tap leaks; it will burn holes through
White shirts, rust your cufflinks.
In the final destination, there is nothing new.