Yesterday I bought a suit and a haircut,
and now I’ve got the world on a string.
At least until the string’s cut,
then it won’t mean a thing.
Interviews, moving, assignments,
fond farewells and
fond hellos
and
the
d
i
s
t
a
n
c
e
that beckons like a drum,
that thrums through the wires;
the distance between home and home.
It was never a choice,
but it was always hard not choosing.