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
