a series of spirals on the subway

de/facement is written on the subway walls.





i met a writer who jumped in front of a subway car in 198_.  now, he likes to talk and paint.  his prose is longing.

a packed car means we'll have to touch.

does anybody else smell me?

she started to read the gnostic gospels aloud on the subway.  by the time the police arrived...

(allowed
aloud)

the ghost of an old friend hustles for change.  i wonder if he recognizes me.

cities have ways.

she is constantly wondering what 2002 would have been like.

cities are ways.