For the passage of tomorrow,
I cut myself a key.
Hoping that by walking on,
I will come to see

all the beauty frozen in place
and all postmodern lust,
the temples left to ruin in sun,
now covered in ancient dust.

For the promise of a taxi,
I walk on through the rain.
Hoping that I’ll sober up
In time to catch the train,

that will take me off to Europe,
that will take me to my room,
that will undress me by the window
and kiss me like a groom.

I plan to marry Bratislava,
kiss Amsterdam on the cheek,
run away with Budapest,
away from times so bleak.

For the programme of education,
I grew myself a tree.
Under the eaves I dreamt of you
and all you were meant to be.

I hope you’re living at frightful speed,
I hope you’ve learned to shout.
It’s been far too long since I’ve heard your voice
oh, it’s been far too long without

your words grunted in the morning,
your words in any form at all,
I see your ghost in every corner,
And I see you in the hall.