Sept. 29th 2001 N.Y.C.
by Loren
Posted to Action Poetry on 2002-01-27 10:07:00
Death rides in the air and I can’t shake it. Like a toxic gas, it’s made it’s way in through the crack under the door. I hang like a bat waiting for the other shoe to hit the floor. I am depressed. Gotta shift into automatic pilot and deal with it. Because there is nothing, absolutely nothing else you can do.