Notes From The Underground #9

Straight lines widning, turning, curving
     waves into doors like solid walls
of cheesecloth, quicksand, rocks,
     like steel eyes soft with dull grey fire
of love as hate burns coldly for
     green meadows of blacktop,
     forests of streetlights,
     quiet buffalo of roaring metal,
     moonlight obscured by ar lights,
     Old men who never sleep but just

Live their deaths every day of every
night of every hour as the
     clock ticks...slowly and yet ever so fast;

     In straight line.

8/27/1989  BCB

"All who enter here must leave
     Reality outside..."

8/27/1989 BCB