the number one used to take me home

[pinkpiggles]

the number one used to take me home

but it means nothing to me now.
Though I sit on the twelve and conjure
an extra deck above my head,
thrust the metal into stairs
and crack new windows out of air,

it means nothing to me now.
The other passengers don't
notice the twelve turn itself around.
My newish neighbours get a breeze
as the flat flies East, takes their ceiling.

But, this means nothing to me now.
West is only East if you go
far enough around. I'm facing
in the wrong direction for home

that means nothing to me now
I'm forging a place past the
East of things. I've swapped

perspectives, I've discovered
the walls that kept Newcastle in,
the cobbles I should've danced

and the words to explain it. I have to
keep checking that the world has shifted

and it's not just me, in the West,
with new clothes on and a lick
of paint.