perpetual motions in A#m

tattered necktie on a rusted fence

sidewalk bricks, laid in a sequence

decrepit stone and lifeless glass

no reflection, facing sunday mass

the sixties dodge, four seats, infest

a skull tattooed on the passenger's headrest

walk the streets, past all the homes

past the graveyard, all alone

the wind in your eyes

cause the tears on your face

blowing the curtains

of the coffee shop lace

a wind eluding every gaze

nowhere to be found,

in the twisted city maze

close your eyes, let it race past

a smile on your face

you've found it at last