I live on trains and moving things
City dweller beneath the skin
Living off earth and beautiful things
Moving through concrete jungles and finished lands
Taking pictures of faces
Mental notes
I’ve travelled to places
You’d call the ends of the earth
Writing psalms
Oh the ink, the grime
Putting pen to paper
Repeating scenes
Analogies
Anatomies
Black and white photographs
Taken from a movie
Nomad blood on the streets
Nomad blood in the heat
Prickly skin and open pores
Temples swelling
Nomad blood in the veins
Maps for arteries
Settling in one place is not for me
There is a whole world to see
I live on trains and moving things
Ups and downs in harmony
City dweller above the skin
Feeding off earth and hideous things
I follow maps and list places to go
And catch my breath
Cold nights
Long mornings
Final hours
Final flows
Time is a concoction
No roots and yet I have many
But the nomad in me
Moves through, moves freely
Picks up news and people
Collects stories from ghosts
But is never haunted
I live on trains and moving things
City dweller beneath the skin
Living off earth and beautiful things
Defying space and time
And dreamlike states of being
This nomad blood is mine for the keeping
Through veins pumping
And sustaining me
Until the next journey
Offering thinking time
Ink, grime, ink, grime, ink, grime, ink, grime.