Saturday, February 07, 2009

Transitory subtitles in the subway. Catching a train to depletion. Energetic emissaries on a windy day. The sky crumbles and I have no shelter. Catch another train to live another life. Stopping. Verbal suicide. Or was it murder? I'm sorry about the rug and the way I lit your dialogue on fire. And that the firemen left. And I ate all your sandwiches and called immigration.