Someone said, leave. I was going to say leave. That was before, no after, or already always at last. I was a banker. Rest an elbow on my desk. Maybe my chin. My eyes fell on paper. So many numbers. Meaningless more I look at them. A system for knowing that one isn't two. That ears aren't eyes. Woke up. Train banked the corner. Slammed my nose into the window. Some small red river runs. Missed my stop. Late again. Or early. Coming or going? Who can ever know?
Where's that hanky, that hankering. One eyelid glued shut. Like to pick the crust later, or before. Enough for now. First drink coffee. Two sugar. No three. But don't stir. Watch the cream. It swirls. Cosmos in a cup. Don't drink it. Just look. That old man. Younger than me. Maybe another shade. Another lamp light left on. Or still dark? Am I above ground? Doesn't matter.
Get on now. Blanket over my face. Don't want to see those stars. Just one tattooed on my neck. My shin aches. My hair hurts. No. Other way around. Lie down. There. That park. Concrete jungle gym. On track. Lots of time. Just a minute. A wrinkle. The tongue gets clogged. Maybe burned. Told you it was hot. Just look. Look away.
What's that noise? Make it stop ringing. Always ringing. Almost always. Sounds the color green. Or orange. Nothing rhymes with orange, except orange. Write in circles. Punch the numbers. Without stopping. Stop sometimes. Just toy trains. I'm never on one. Sometimes though. Don't want to be late. Don't want to be early. Someone said, leave. Someone said, leave.