March 21, 2023


Giant buildings slowly shrivel to dwarves

As my distance from them grows

Their unending sounds and blaring lights

Are deafened and dimmed by the tunnel

As it siphons me away


Through the tunnel and over the hill

The air thickens and is made visible

The land appears craterous and dead

No pedestrians to be seen

No voices to be heard


Only the caterwauls of industry

Bellowing smoke tinges the air grey

Trucks grind and clatter

Birds fly higher than my sight

As if to avoid all that lies below


“It is only temporary,” I tell myself

As I wait for the scene to change

I’ve phased through this place many times

I know what comes next


The grey shall fade

And the bald and craterous grounds

Will be made full and coated green

There will be a mountain, trees, even lakes

And the birds will be seen again


Eventually, I pass the mountain

Gated and graffitied

I think, “It’s not all bad here”

And, in truth, it isn’t

But I could NEVER LIVE here


Not in this place

Only good for a visit


I stop not long after

Now there are no sounds at all

There is nothing

The land is flat and dark

In all directions


I cannot discern

By what means did I come to be here?

So dull with nothing to greet me

No path lies to either side of me

This place is

Like living in stasis

I scramble to return to my familiar grid

Of noise and concrete

But I find no hints, signs, or street

I sit and sigh awhile

I’ll never be certain why, but I’m in exile.

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