Being in the subway is like being rocked to sleep by a giant metal mother. My head is nodding, my eyes are heavy. I open my eyes suddenly. I'm made out of wood. I can see the grain in my arms and legs. I'm a giant wooden man. Children are poking me. They are young children one of them only has one eye. I don't speak their language but they don't know there is more than one so I smile. This is my stop.
The doors hiss open. I step out of the car but I'm not in the station. I'm walking on a desert plain. Dust on my boots. Ecstacy of Gold. Is this where I should be? Is this my destiny-- to live forever in fantasy?
1 comment:
good to see your still alive and kicking.
Post a Comment