a few people in the train are shouting about david copperfield, weirdly synchonized with sarah's visit. one of the guys, a thuggish hispanic guy, arm crawling with tattoos (i decided he is latin yakuza, for fun), can't remember david blaine's name, so i supply it for him. they get off at sterling street. at this point, i start losing focus, losing linear narrative. i'm thinking about how i bought my thiry-day unlimited ride metrocard with transit checks this morning. about the guy across from me's inexplicable mickey mouse nascar jacket. a woman carrying a bag of chocolates is reading about the pope's death in an old daily news, & i start laughing about it. my hand starts to cramp up from writing & i start thinking about lactic acid & electron transport, & how i'm neglecting reading my book. suddenly i'm remembering the unpleasent smell of cigarette smoke & fish from yesterday's chinatown adventures. goblintown adventures, my eyes seeing overlay on the close streets. after a few moments i look up, suddenly. nothing has happened, but there is a new shadow on the brushed steel of the doors, a figure in a robe of seaweed & tentacles. a head like two entwined manta-rays. a rorschach angel of deep places. he wasn't there a second ago. the train fits & starts, like always, epilepticly braking into the brooklyn college/flatbush avenue station.
notebook paper.
a few people in the train are shouting about david copperfield, weirdly synchonized with sarah's visit. one of the guys, a thuggish hispanic guy, arm crawling with tattoos (i decided he is latin yakuza, for fun), can't remember david blaine's name, so i supply it for him. they get off at sterling street. at this point, i start losing focus, losing linear narrative. i'm thinking about how i bought my thiry-day unlimited ride metrocard with transit checks this morning. about the guy across from me's inexplicable mickey mouse nascar jacket. a woman carrying a bag of chocolates is reading about the pope's death in an old daily news, & i start laughing about it. my hand starts to cramp up from writing & i start thinking about lactic acid & electron transport, & how i'm neglecting reading my book. suddenly i'm remembering the unpleasent smell of cigarette smoke & fish from yesterday's chinatown adventures. goblintown adventures, my eyes seeing overlay on the close streets. after a few moments i look up, suddenly. nothing has happened, but there is a new shadow on the brushed steel of the doors, a figure in a robe of seaweed & tentacles. a head like two entwined manta-rays. a rorschach angel of deep places. he wasn't there a second ago. the train fits & starts, like always, epilepticly braking into the brooklyn college/flatbush avenue station.
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