I am tugged in five different directions
gently drawn and quartered
I take restless to another level
My bag is perpetually packed, an A-Z in the pocket
railcard in its worn plastic wallet, check my tickets,
my iPod the only companion.
Another train, walk, train, bus, metro, tube
Another book or two
and “Can you believe it’s nearly 3 years?
Where has the time gone?”
I’ve left clumps of it here and there;
like the swilled dregs from coffee cups in swinging bins at stations,
it’s dribbled unnoticed away.
Where am I headed?
What is my final destination?
Well, that depends what you mean
and what answer you want.
I’ve a split ticket;
I’m breaking my journey
& I’ve got an open return.
“This is the final call for this service
please take all your belongings with you as you step from the train to the platform.”
Because the cleaners in coats have come to evict discarded leftovers.
Once again in the waiting room of my life
I watch the fortunate few catch the express train through
Whilst I am restricted to the stopper.
But where to next?
I stare at the departure board unsure
reassessing my options
calculating what the delays will do
and when I might finally get to leave.
Signalling problems; the future is inscrutable.
“Please listen for further announcements.”