Thursday, May 24, 2012

Four cups of coffee get me through the day.

Black, of course, because sugar makes me feel sick these days. Just like getting on the gritty subways underground, where grinding wheels carry the dead to white screens, and civilized men turn into half-starved animals. Wolves on the prowl. 


They leer at me, breathe down my neck, sink dirty claws on my shivering skin. I am immobilized. There's nowhere to hide


except in my own head, fists clenched, teeth clenched, wondering through which ring of hell exactly this speeding vessel transports me.

Wednesday, May 9, 2012

Days blend into nights, and nights blend into the winds that sweep the long green beans dangling from the branches of the trees
back and forth and back and forth.

I didn't know beans could grow like that on trees, but sometimes when it's late at night, and I plod heavily back to my dungeon cell, I close my eyes and listen to them sway. They speak to the white flowers that bloom beneath them at night. Moonroses, I like to call them.

I struggle these days. I fight, not knowing what exactly I'm fighting for or against. The bottom of the mountain looks so enticing from the top. Maybe if I let myself lean into the wind, I can fly to it. A deep plunge, away from the stifling heat and the bugs that crawl out of the walls at night. And then I can sleep.