The Reach

I’m a spy with headphones in my ears, listening to your conversations. I’ve been to Paris, Portland, and now New York. Moloch, the great and mighty beast, rising from a bedrock foundation interwoven with quick transit. The ship sails through time, paradise on sails.

Tomorrow another shift starts and we battle the enui and poverty. Keep the S.S. Appropouture alive so that we can make poetry until we die and all that is next. The grail of Avengers assembling. Trying to make myself cry. Creating moments of heartbreak as though the moments that make one feel are the only ones that matter. Sitting on a bed watching television, aching at the thought of even getting up to eat. The problems between me and the grail of me dropping a pot of my balcony.

“I’ll point you to it.” I tell the woman, pulling my own book off the shelf.

“Oh, you work here!?” she says, recognizing my celebrity.

“No, actually I work over there.” I tell her, turning red with a quickening pulse.

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