It isn’t February yet
In Columbus it must be very cold
Things only move in the places we aren’t
The lines to stand in haven’t been labeled right

Or it’s cold everywhere, to be hemispherical
Bits of the structure can only be seen
When the plane has almost but not quite landed
There must be a way to make everything clear

The structure is only visible in patches
We envy the others whose lines are more classical
We envy the others whose judgment is practical
But still there are things that no one should pay for

Things only happen in the other places
Where we are it’s hard to get answers at all
The lemon groves are in foreclosure
As of yet we don’t have any answers