Poem : MM

5:45,
and the city is breathing slowly.
The body travels on the mind's parisomony
and buses turn into synapses
slowly turning on the introspcetive lights of neurons
that try ardently to be self aware
of oncoming traffic.

A strange ear drives past
A bell rings

The mechaninc hum of space
A tissue
Soft eye lids.

My teeth feel like expensive fur coats.

Buildings resemble the unfamiliar tusks
of a walrus, resplendent
with a premeture twilight.

The odd eye twitches.

The backs of the seats are
a very charming blue.

The underneath of shadows are
a very charming blue.

The inside of my mouth is
a very charming blue.