My MRI in this artwork was taken shortly after the first
bombing of the WTC.
I was ambushed, held down on the sacred grounds of higher
education and beaten on the back of the head by a painter who was working on a
portrait of a dead German dictator.
The last memory I held on to was of a beautiful Venezuelan
who wanted to marry me.
I loved her.
I woke up on a subway that roared deep under a dark river.
The only passenger was in the corner seat opposite me. Black hooded, he looked
up with yellow eyes.
Miss your stop, he asked wistful like a cat that saw a mouse
escape.
Fear broke coldness
on my body, stand up and force open the doors of the screeching train. I hit
hard concrete and looked up to see something like The Aurora Borealis over a
stadium in The South Bronx. This is life after high school. This is the urban
myth of the restless spirit come to life in the inner reaches of cyberspace. I
am the accountant.
Once upon a time, I had a dream for the city that never
sleeps…
Revenge is living well.
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