“Hello hello? Is anyone there?”
The echoes resonate off the sides of the deep copper pot into which I’m yelling.
Been feeling very alien lately, and just now realized that wordpress is no longer blocked in China. Hooray.
I’m still editing Wandering Eyes, but if completion was a bit torrent, my DL speed would be around 0.2 kb/s. Waking up every day at 11:45, cursing, because I’m late for work again. I bought two alarm clocks and I hide them in the dresser drawers before bed each night, but when they ring they do not wake me up. So I must be sleepwalking to turn them off.
It’s damp outside . And I ride close behind strange men on their motorcycle taxis, and that’s all the human touch I get.
Needless to say I’m lonely.
We are objects upon objects
stacked in space.
Some weeping
some cackling -
all voiceless eventually.
After work
my hips dip
into the rotund proximity
of another subway car stranger,
together we hurtle through the darkness toward more objects and loneliness and dissolution in space, then:
up the escalators
through turnstiles
around cheap locks
into faded motel slippers
by the fold-out bed
and even the garbage is enfolded
by it’s boyfriend – Bin.
Prepositional
constructs of
an extraterrestrial life.
