In Circles

Green was never my favorite. It’s a color, right? I am not so sure. I wake up every minute, or is it five? Every correction you make I ignore. Maybe I don’t. You have a bicycle. It’s purple. Drink some coffee. It might wake you up. Look at the floor. I see a drain and some leaves. No, I don’t. There are no leaves there. Blue shoes, is it a bag? Wood, chairs, and telephone poles.  A photo, the owner, where is she? Damn schedule! Damn meetings! Always kept away from you. The closer I get the further you are. Your toes, I will kiss them. Curled, striped leggings. How old is this? Rainbow, fuzziness. Is it morning? The trash collector is here to take it all away. Just take your pills and text me. Just shine the flashlight. I can see it on the horizon. The UFO is here from when I was 15. It never took me away. It’s very late. See the triple rainbow? We stop playing baseball and stare. Didn’t God say something about rainbows, or is that apples? Fuck Him! Your hair, blond, or blonde? Plastic straws and ice. Inculcate you I will. Saved even though you don’t need saving. Every patronizing trope like solar panels on the roads. So many bad ideas. I just need a locksmith for my brain, my mind, my /dev/null. Just pipe it there. Does the Universe end with? Yeah, someone else said that. Now my feet tingle. I will see you tomorrow.

Revelation in 1 Minute



The tubeway was not in its usual configuration. As usual, I had walked down from the F train platform through the vaulted enclosure of the spaceport trains to the lowest level express platform leading to the city. Something had been moved. The stretch of old slightly oily maglev had been twisted perhaps two degrees counterclockwise looking down from above. Yes, who would notice such a minor detail? Unfortunately, I would. Unfortunate since it would be yet one more thing only I would notice. I could tell no one. I wasn’t afraid of being labeled crazy or eccentric; people already thought I was. I just could not break someone else by telling them the truth. The constantly shifting geometries and realities of the city could only be mine to know. That was until the approaching train arrived. Or more specifically what (or who?) was on the train.

For maybe one or two days a year the advertisements covering everything in the station would be taken down. I am not sure why. Did advertisers just run out of money? Removing the ads revealed something we rarely speak of these days. Yes, we have the most perfect society ever to exist. No superlative can ever enhance our state of perfection, but there was a day that others walked among us. Now why did the authorities allow the past to interject in the present so jarringly? Memories have faded, or simply have been removed, but just like the slight turn of the maglev tracks I remember.

“Excuse me, sir?” I could hear the voice. It could not be for me. “Sir? Did you drop this?” Drop what? What did I have? Not much. And there it was.

Like the maglev tunnels of the city, my mind is like an endless digression. I travel one line, and it connects into another. What train is this? I am so lost some days I am suddenly above ground, the end of the line, the ocean, the city’s bridges barely visible in the fog.