The Unknown, We Live
In the Blue Mountains Where the moon never sets. They say there lies treasure.
Far beyond the green land, the lakes, the rolling hills. The horses.
I travel the sink sand of faces on trains.
Getting lost in crowds. This yo-yo world.
We live as. Rocking horse horrors for a circus show tale.
Sometimes creaking around nineteen-seventies hotel corridors.
All beige and yellow diamond patterns. With cigarette stains.
As I travel, teachers giggle in corners, throwing wit and sarcasm
about classroom doors. Sometimes searching in drawling accents
for accommodation on a bike trip to Paris. A village called Groomsville.
Population sixteen hundred and seven. Website, under construction,
please contact Peter O’Toole (no not that one), at 07543 677 677.
That equals all the sums. Total, planet Earth’s existence.
A yo-yo, ukulele and back-packing bicycle trip to Paris.
What’s treasure to you?
Out here in the Blue Mountains. Where the moon never sets.