There’s a point there where it all works. Lil momentary pierce into my noggin that yeah, yeah, it’s all working. I’m touched all semblances and sorts of righteously by the hint of the cold working on the train. So it all finally works.
Because FLASHBACK! There was a time when I took brainnote of the time on the stove as I bounced out the door, unlocked. There was a time when I toed off the curb, timing jumps tween cars always too slow going through the light. Least for my tastes, the fucking dicks just fucking drive faster, fill up lanes unfilled, maximize your highway efficiency you motherfucks blarrgh. There was a time when I timed and jumped the walk signal, where I figured into the ol equation the factor of my dress shoes, rolling heel march to the train station, eyes square’d on the asshole LCD, Arriving, Arriving, Arriving, shimmy at the backward pinpricks of tick tock fuck the train is coming theee traaaain is commminnnggg and then bolt, fuck all the shoes and the chemical horse hockey in my hair, noted that? well note it now, sweat and worry and last ditch efforts to fly toward end chances and the pissoff countdown and beating lurching monster hurrrring the ground fore I blur it, for sake of last chances and keeping promises and arriving safely at Point J, I’ll do it cuz it’s all I’ll ever do/can do/wanna do in lieu of sitting at home with the whoda fucking know anyway lurking beyond, nah, I’ll make this train, I’ll burn out and sweat all over and slide in there, later noting that thank God the AC’s rolling nicely today.
