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Vertical Prose


May 17th, 2005

subway notes @ 07:45 am

Current Mood: Location: New York- 79 Clinton

my new phone has a special buttons to make voice-notes
-riding the subway a while ago
(5:03pm 4/7/05)
i took two notes
reminding me i wanted to write about this:

so many people on the subways sleep
nodding out
from exhaustion of the day's work?
or the lack of oxygen
in those deep tunnels
a million crammed in people
windows sealed, now
air conditioning

nodding off
are they dreaming?

i must read books
or do yoga, qi-gung
or photograph them...
think about them.


waiting is always an active process for me
...




2:
so much time in the subway is used for
sleeping
waiting

kind of

drives me crazy
to watch people waste time...

but are they dreaming?
or planning out their day?
do they nodd off
"for lack of oxygen"
as bridget says?


are they listening with one year as the conductors call out the stations?
or do the tunnels
small screetchings/ (cut off)


1:

the new york city suburbs/subways
are like the groin
the genitals
of the city
the city
island
is nature
and the cement dresses it like pants

being in the subways
is not only going inside the pants
but going inside of the organs

but down here you smell the rich musk of balls and asshole
the dirt
and the seduction
 
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Comments

 
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From:bigredpaul
Date:May 17th, 2005 03:02 pm (UTC)
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Sounds like you're starting to really get a feel for the place.
From:(Anonymous)
Date:May 17th, 2005 06:23 pm (UTC)

cyberseering an old love.....

(Link)
11:18am here in Newport, trying to get my business started/restarted. wandering throgh my cyberworld while I have my english muffins & health shake. Tribe leads me back to Dominic. He keeps popping up. I follow a path which leads me to know that he is in NYC and posting his daily musings. TMI? Kismet? The song in the background is Dylan, singing, "It ain't me babe, it ain't me...."

By the time I post this the soundtrack is Bob Seeger's "Against the Wind", and onto Van Morrison's "Brown Eyed Girl". And I'm distracted again by the magic man, 3,000 miles away from Newport, OR. Crazy Kid. Hi. Thanks for the memories.

Vertical Prose