Went back & walked NYC
without you, felt alone beneath lonely tall buildings,
like I could cry for all the children growing old
unknowingly in 5th Avenue penthouse apartments
talking on wireless headsets & dodging traffic--
Hey me! Retarded anachronism sketching notes
on white notebook while you're on solid blue bus
rolling south on I95 steady, everyone of
those passengers locked into G3 matrix reveries
awaiting the AI messiah, I'll hold you for the rapture
if it comes, where it's extra-dimentional insane--
and why, oh, why won't this notebook scroll down?
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