Walking down a long and empty road
Wondering if I have the strength to go on
I used to be someone who knew how to handle it
But now I can only beg and borrow
I have no choice but to move on
I expect no one to grieve
And if I should pass this way alone
Look out your window
look out your window
as I leave
Where am I gonna go
If I can't find my way
Who am I gonna know
If I can't find my way
Who's gonna make it so
If I can't find my way
Who am I gonna be
If I just can't find my way
Cant find my way
in my two hands I held
something that felt like something real
when I looked again
I was looking at the end of a rope
the end of a rope
How can there be a journeys end
when the road goes ever on
if I pass through here again
then maybe this time I'll belong
Where am I gonna go
If I can't find my way
Who am I gonna know
If I can't find my way
Who's gonna make it so
If I can't find my way
Who am I gonna be
If I just can't
I just can't find my way
Robin Ouzman Hislop's poetry is certainly in dialogue with some of the key architects of the 'poetics of indeterminacy' – both the Modernist strands represented by the likes of Beckett and Stein, and the postmodernist strands represented, initially,
In the Whirlwind is a poetic storm that frees history from the cages of corruption and puts it in the hands of everyday people. Words are weaved into a new fashion statement that has nothing to do with runways but everything to do with projects!
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