Palatine

I passed the trains at Union Station and wanted to see smoke. Trains don't smoke anymore, they are cold and calculated. I'd like to travel with my love across these plains trailing a thick black cloud of toxic smoke, smearing the earth and claiming it for ourselves. But for now I am to Palatine to see a judge, only stopping briefly at the station to wonder at what might have been had I been born inside a decade more of me. Nature versus nurture doesn't matter much when you consider we are all alone. And so why not travel by train, to take your time, to see the countryside, to hold hands. But for another day, another me. This one is off to Palatine. This one is off to plead his case. And let us hope this judge is one who enjoys a story.