the topography ahead

“The Topography Ahead”

I found the spark in the dark of our raft,

"Go to hell" whispered,

on thissoul-forged craft.

But then came the Boy

with his books and those keys,

With "style" in his pockets

and "rules" on his knees.

He spoke of the honours,

the way things are done,

The "civilized" method

of "having our fun."

And my new-grown spirit,

so fragile and thin,

Bowed down to the logic

of original sin.

I played at his games

while a man stood in chains,

I traded my blood

for his theatrical stains.

For Tom knows the map,

and Tom knows its law,

And Tom sees the merit

in every tiny flaw.

But the heart has a limit;

this soul has a gate,

It can’t be bartered

for a "sivi’ised" state

If the price of the parlour

is Jim in a cage,

Then I’ll smudge out the ink

from its very last page.

The town is a shadow,

their rules are a lie,

A slow-motion choking

beneath our blue sky.

So I’ll head for that sunset,

Its wild, glowing red—

I’m lighting out

for the topography ahead.

.