witty-remark's Diaryland Diary

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Sometimes, the city coils around your waist and slides you down its throat with a glossy flick of its tongue and smack of its lips.

Sometimes, the morning train rattles so violently, you slip from your personal bubble and pop into the person's next to you.

Sometimes, those tracks screech like cats until they shake loose from the ground and swing up like a tidal wave.

And you drown.

In a place you've spent your life getting to know.

But that place doesn't want to get to know you.

Downtown, from a begger with cracked hands, palms turned towards the sun, you hear "chew on this", as the city swallows you for its just deserts.

8:20 p.m. - Thursday, Jan. 14, 2010

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