Mechanical Stars

The mechanical stars

Warned me about you

I should never have listened

Now don't start, instead

Follow me through

The Arabic snowstorms

And the Antarctic deserts

In search of a melding of the minds

And I remember once

A tourist

On the tourbus through my mind

Asked as we passed

Through an oasis of friendship

Into a blackened, charred ruin

 "What happened to this place?"

 "Arson," I replied

As it seemed the only thing to say

 "What I don't understand," he continued,

 "Is why they lit the match."

 "Because," I answered simply,

 "The smell of gasoline lingers."