commute to quarter centuries

leaving behind everything and nothing

you went from your-village providential stench

to the capital fragrance sniffer

that let out: twice twice provincial you now

echoing tongue of echoed babble

that told of old rough times

with Cold War gusto of truth amps

when lost land masked lost time

to fit exile's empty face

what rat race in the maze of time to run

to celebrate the years, to not remember

to stick vampires into th'empire of time

to put on makeup thick as ice

was during the ice age

how global you look this morning my love