Trail Out

The spotlights escort that dull whoosh

So you follow the trail out

Like the sundown voyager you are.

These are the tales of acceptable routes,

And the getaways

Cutting through central streams.

 

I’m the type with headphones on

Watching samples mate through meter

And lyrics express

The meaning behind new motion,

While loose in the lobby.

 

This one shows too much teeth

And that grin kills to win

Amused,

As they begin to fit the scheme

Burning through thin black strands

Once I man the play button.

 

I chuckle,

Retracing invisible grooves

Built on duty and vacation time,

Leaving another mark

That by most odds

Will only resurface as something important to me.

 

And now, I want procession, not herd flow

So I discharge through solid steps

And pan left to the spotlights

Blinking on their diagonal beginnings.

I leave shortly,

Armed with another view of meaning.