Friday, April 29, 2016

Metaphysical Public Transportation

     This was some sort of Megabus. Its route ran in crazy meandering knife arcs, a fluctuating elephant in musky heat, belching hot steamy breath and lumbering in jagged sudden jerks. Each time I lapsed into my darkness I would flounder awake in entirely different parts of the city, which gave no hint, or reason of connection to exist on the same plane. Some stops glowed perfectly perfume ordered opulence, and some stops carved vaguely lit visceral struggles impressioned against broken worlds behind.

     Our Megabus, a floodlight blared rotting doomsday football stadium, never seemed to stop and disgorge the brimming sweaty masses bacterially stacked and wedged against each other. Yet every time I turned my gaze a new batch of pallid, grotesque faces with cloying odors would divide then multiply to reinvade my perch. The mask I wore was turned from its place in twists of my own macabre circus.
From where I cracked my glare, I alone remained a constant on my stained graffito bench. Cracked… faded, our states seethed with an acrid light while we fused together in radioactive perpetuity.

Where the fuck was I going?