Before I went where I thought I was
going, it was all changed and different;
and no one really knew anyway where it is.
The rail-lines converged at the trunk-station,
which is like saying there's no 'there' there.
I'd bet the Germans had a big word for it -
Kadashtapinkeninweirnen. Something like
that. Meaning to say, 'the kaput place between
the unfinished mountains where we call nothing
home.' When the conductor got finished telling
me that, I just nodded - using the same broken
English as he did. My travel notebook was a
Moleskin, which is actually a fabric that so few
know : 'less plush than velour.' That's what the
look-ups say. The Germans have a compound
word for that too. I'd bet.