Saturday, February 7, 2009


After two days of limited movement
Mentally pacing a generous cell
I am disconnected from all tubes
And step onto the elevator
Pressing 1 nonchalantly
As if I did this regularly
As if anything were regular

I blink reflexively at the sun
Shining against unfamiliar snow
Offended at the world
For spinning on without me
But feel little else
Not my tongue
Not the sting
Not the release

One more gate passed through
Another token collected
Gaining entrance to another room
Another test to be tested
Data clinging to me
But little else
Save the sensation that lasts
More gates await