I'm not one for remembering names, but
Hello, angelina, you tiny savior
Adorning a pungent pine tree.
You were in the form of an instructor of pilates
And a musician who struck a chord with me.
The machines took over too early,
So four hours were spent knowing Logan too well
With 40 boxes of greasy cardboard in cardboard
With water in plastic and goldfish in bags.
Seven hours later, the magic worked
From a plane window I saw the pollution and the pier,
Made it on to the other side,
Coast to coast, I marked home a little before 7.a.m.
Everything's almost the same.
I'm home, therefore I am.