Those coffee spoons, they’re broken now —
I, too, have risen from a stony sleep;
I never imagined all those miles to go
could break the promises I’d meant to keep.
I once sailed, at peace with all existence;
Now I’m groping for some purpose or a plan.
On my tongue, in ink, I’ve tattooed Distance,
baffled by a glance from Miss Understand.
Enough of old things, enough of decay!
My mouth tastes of defiance, and yours
(Some day you’ll see what I wish to convey!)
of tragedy and Victorian wars.
Set a new trajectory! Head unbowed,
I’m off circling centuries, beyond the Oort cloud.