Metro

I walk past a man sauntering down the escalator like a sweet rotting Jamaican swamp. Puddles

of ghosts flicker around his feet. The distant rumble of trains sounds like a stifled yawn of an 

aligator. He leans forward with a grin; rests his fingers on my shoulder: "You are

a witch",

he says.

Bug

I wake up. I go to the bathroom. I see a sheet of paper with some scribbling on it and an upturned glass on the floor. I think to myself: strange.

Under the glass there's an imprisoned bug the size of a grain of sand. Roommate had left a letter next to it. The letter reads: "I found this animal in the bathroom this morning. I was afraid it might be a very small cockroach. I'm leaving it for you for closer inspection. R.".

I murdered it.

(...)

Existence of elephants(ensations)

manifested by a stampede of metaphysical

elephant feet rolling across my head.

(...)

Dolphin in a tree - 

Chinese man pokes

the air with a stick.

The act of writing

Is a game of turning

a chess piece

into a turtle.

(...)

You're an interval

(dis)harmonized

with my silence.

(...)

Morning: fog clasped

on the streetlamp's neck

like a wet glove.