Molasses House

Keep some quarters in my pocket

And some stamps in my wallet

Tuck some tissues in my coat

A pencil and pad to take notes

Got myself a roll of tokens

The platform machine may be broken

Called ahead for directions

Traced the map for good measure

Peaked my head out the window

Smelled the air for signs of rain or snow

Circled the address in the paper

Alight, alight into the mad caper

No rhythms score this original journey

Just my nervous belly and tapping feet

Dancing away from oncoming people and trees

Check my ticking watch, counting the streets

The thrill, the fear, the spectacle, the sleuth

Solving tiny mysteries to deliver me truth

Clutching a typewritten declaration of time

Mouthing the words of my opening line

Alight, alight into the mad caper.