7.16.2009

greasy spoon and the undergroud space sealife

Beep Beep Beep Beep
A quick slip of fingers across buttons and the alarm is off. A quick hop up and into the bathroom. A brush, the kind people clean their teeth with slides in and out of the mouth. Into the shower where warm streams slide down the body. Out of the shower into the mirror, looking at that same face you have seen forever, but hardly remember. A comb or a brush and a slap of deodorant, the kind people put under their arms so they don't stink when bacteria starts eating their sweat.

A jump out the door into the sun doing it's morning stretches across the sky. Across the town in a train, the kind that take people on elevated rails above the city, but below the buildings. Onto the street passing by people asking for money, the kind that have no other choice or no other will to do, or be. Into the restaurant. Into the kitchen. On to the grill the burgers sizzle. The orders come, the fries cook in vats of grease. Into the mouth they go one by one, breaking down in the body building up fat cells, the kind that at one time in history kept people alive in very bad times. Into the arteries cholesterol builds. Into the heart, and out of the heart, blood travels slowly being constricted by blood flowing. People grow.

Out of the restaurant into the street. Across the town in a train staring out the windows. Into the store, the kind that sells bottles or cans in various sizes and shapes. Back to the home into the glass. Into the mouth. Absorbed into the blood. Altering the brain, the kind which human function resides, also speculated to contain the "soul". Outside the window on the porch. They talk and yell. A lone man stands grunting and smacking himself in the head. Crying and alone there in the dark.

Into the bed and off to sleep. The sky is dim and there is snow all around. The clouds drop ice in huge blocks. They smash into the ground shooting shards all around them in a poof of snow. They make no sound. The ground cracks. Through the crack into the water. Under ice but not cold. There are trees that grow with little lights all through them. Trees, the kind that are so old and massive the branches touch the ground. The bubbles sit in the water like they are stuck in jello, the kind that jiggles when touched. The ice above is a mirror, but no person can be seen. Mines drift by with large spikes and rusted metal. They explode in the distance creating mild flashes of red and white. The water warms as it rushes by in little shock waves.

Beep Beep Beep Beep Beep Beep Beep
A hand glides across the alarm. A slow roll and into the bathroom. Brush, shower, comb, train, restaurant. Grease, cholesterol. Street. The stairs to the train grow. The top seems so high. Sweat beads on the head and heart thumps in ears. Pain shoots down arm. Tightness grips chest. Black and white specks float around. Fall, the kind that makes a head bleed. Crowd. Silence.

These are the things I remember from my last life.

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