I crisscross my feelings with a view  
of street, people walking, some crazy looking, from a window 

lines which are the imitation of imagined veins

                   passing thru my quivering city

     “your city?”

              a box          a camera with a one-track mind

behind it

                 can’t see too good

lumbering           logging           lonesome

             lugging

                                                            muggy weather

numbs my brain

 

Perhaps I’m kidding myself about
the life I lead

Sometimes I feel I’m dying

It’s so cold in here I can’t do anything

Airplanes take us where we’re going and leave us there,