Some Trivial Pursuit

I take the train station to station

It's one of my few luxuries

Besides my last sip of coffee

And eyeing the man across from me

He is lost

Lost in the papaer

He's chasing some trivial pursuit

Some propaganda for your honey suckle dreams

That somehow grasp the day

I get off, take a step. Step, stop, look around

I can't find the time.

And there's a man holding court int he market and I
can't conjure up a dime.

His cheeks are kissed with mid December chill

Like a gnome planted firmly in the garden.

And then the sky puts on her make-up.

She's in her evening gown .

She coyly accepts the city lights

And wears them in her crown

Laying in bed, I can't hear the side streets

I've blocked the record playing

Though it's singing just for me

And before drifting into sleep

I hear Kyra say

« Is that why people think life is beautiful ?
Because they know that it ends ? »