Take an elevator on a different floor. it seems it's the same elevator
You took before, for sure, the same one you took another time from a
Different floor. My head is an empty elevator traveling up and down
Stopping on random floors, opening its doors. My head's an empty
Elevator from the inside out only, otherwise it exists not only but solely in
My misperceptions a plenty a pound for a penny a whistle a kiss and
A crease to increase my chances of a soft landing. My head, my poor
Head so hard pressed into service for nothing. Once there was in it what's
Left of a kick after it's happened. Once there was music, not elevator music,
in it, with no one inside it listening. Once there were strings of glass
Beads in it breaking. I put out my hands to catch them but my hands
Are broken. I put out my hands as though they're on fire. I say to
My hands you can't stay in my head any longer. I say to my elevator
You're the last elevator at the end of a lost civilization., I say, elevator.