Intransigence

 The yellow brick road

Yellow in the sodium of street lamps

Yellow orange in the saffron

Of Indian Restaurants

Where the beige curtain twitches with 

The interested interior

Friend or foe

Interloper or explorer

Back from the pub

On a night time's throw

Shepton in the red lights of traffic lights

Glows

Stop it says admire 'no-goes'

And standing still

And stationary waves

Like the stations of the railways

That say

Just stop

Do not pass GO

Unless Go straight to prison

For that is remembrance's rainbow

It's a kind of trump card, wild card

In the deck

When you get caught out for doing

What the heck

And your life just stops

In mid flow

On the railway tracks

Where nobody goes

Except your wife and children

Who follow you there

Then wave up at the prison bars

Or drink down in the square

Where else

What else to escape from this logic

Of intransigent history

That keeps you in its pocket?

But you must reach escape velocity

Eventually

No, anti-matter doesn't fall up

So neither can you despite how black

You may feel you must

reach for the stars

And generate momentum

It is who you are

In this space time continuum