Cobbled stones crack roads across my steps (Step across the road) For I have been here long before. Rivulets trickle-trace rivers in the run down the drains, drains the same they ever were.

(How many times?) How many times I’ve crossed these roads Not knowing I would know them a thousand thousand thousand steps’ hence still pressed evermore into the cracks (hop the cracks) of all I am.

Flowers spring fancies in the sewerways (brushed, gently, faltering-fragile) where there never were before Stench rising, fragrance fleeting, ever the same sentiment entrenched footworn and faithful.