the conversations we hear,
the ones we make,
the personalities we take in,
the identities we put on,
they sit in atriums around circular stainless tables
and make us spin.
if our eyes displayed motives like holographic baseball cards
displaying the connection of ball and bat plus reaction
i doubt we'd walk away unaffected.
keys jingle beats to the beat of my redemption
as i walk from who i was an often innocent convict
and i confess my time was often wasted as a derelict.
so batten down the hatches boys this ship is going down,
check my pockets once you check my pulse
and change it in town for train tickets.
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