08 October 1992 SC

"Gentlemen, start your engines!"
"Let the games begin!"

It’s a conflict of distances, now,
a matter of time.
Distance is relevant,
too much is dangerous,
too little a nuisance.
How far is it from
point A to point B?
From here to there?
From you to me?
Do we run?
Do we walk?
Do we waltz?
Far or near?
Planes, trains, or automobiles?
If you wander too far,
I could be lost�?BR>it could happen anyway,
even if you stay close.
Telephone lines and railroad tracks.
I don’t want you to go�?BR>but jealousy is not a bridge,
it is an anchor,
an albatross,
the enemy.
I need a map.
I need a clock,
time is distance, too.
Hell, what I need is you.

"Play ball!"