Urinal Otearai

In the toilet reception room I see pie faces watching me. The mood is rotten here, the walls are brown, and the ruddy lamp lights aren't helping. The sink in my washbasin otearai is a flat steel affair inclining towards me, pattering cheaply. I wonder do they know I'm pissing on it? These people eyeing me so intently beyond the aluminum partition. In any case, when did the act of relieving oneself become such drawn out process as to necessitate a drawing room?   

The bathroom I'm describing is here:     X-------------------------

the observers are here:                                                           O                O  o O                     O o         O

Whole families! Through tinny intercom I hear read in spanish: Ojala que las personas de este ciudad puedan usar los lavatorios regularmente para llavar los manos muchos tiempos durante el dia. Montener su salud! 

Outside the vestibule lies the station great room, where a ticket agent sits in a marble/glass box like a centralized purveyor of great lands, the lone great rock to watch over the plains.  

The Murder of John Lennon

I walked through the townhome. I'd like to say it was four-directional. Even the wood smelled that way. I walk down stairs wooden frameworks around me. Water boiling beneath metal cages.

Ratiocination

Everything was contained in that awkward embrace. It was a product of a mutual recognition of the compulsory familial obligations. The singular act can be further boiled down to the embarrassed glance. Her eyes moved to avert mine, and meaning to disguise her natural southern aversion, she leaned far to the right--an almost sarcastic embellishment. I wasn't interested. People are base and self absorbed by nature, and in any event, they are also forgetful. In retort, I noted her blond hair mussed by the wind, and her dropsical face caked with flaking putty. In youthful ignorance I had loved her once, scratching letters into my back with long faux fingernails--now she seemed nothing more than flesh built around a tired southern caricature. As she leaned I defeated this caricature. The sun caught my eyes and I left them there. Tabula rosa--the peace of nothingness, shared by vacuums, rocks and death. The sound of bags sliding, banging steel walls.

Later, my wife and I were in the back of their 1980s Ford Bronco. I could smell that he was drinking. I told my wife to look out beyond the front windshield because we were entering a verdant tunnel of trees and ivy; one so emblematic of the state.

We walked and could not get back. How did we get here? The process of ratiocination set in.

Nobody Knows

The sun had set but the sky was still a pale blue overcast, like a white bed-sheet stained with blueberry. The two sat there facing the strobe-lights of Haneda Kukou, their black and silver silhouettes assuring me that anything was possible. 

Carnival

The orgasm was in my head. I realize now thats where it came from. If the world is a desert, then my head is spring-water. Electric particles are floating in the air. Unrealized potential behind secret viewing windows. Everything is a secret. There are two types of sun-fish. Working through the pain is impossible. The pain lies in the back of the head--it too is the pain of unrealized potential. 

I pissed out of the building onto a tree that was three meters down, and 45 degrees across from me. My piss shot long and true onto the trunk. Further down a brook was the entertainment of broken children. Everything was mauve red, green and brown. A minute after I had finished, an elderly asian woman in a bucket-hat peeked out from behind the tree, holding the hand of a toddler. She looked right at me, but was scared by my return glance (perhaps a xenophobic reaction) and walked down a flight of stone steps, allowing her child to join the broken ones. 

Several men watched us fuck. I guess this was for money, but I'm on the wrong side to tell you. I live here, and they'll never let us go. 

Castle

Meat, blood coursing, pain, lungs burn. My head bounced as I ran back to the castle. The blue knights had invaded and taken over our home while we were away in the forest with the king. The king was furious and slayed four blue knights immediately, as he dispatched me and other red officers to the side of the castle to regain a foothold. The fellow next to me ran a bit faster, slammed into a blue officer at the side entranceway as I slipped through. Blue scholars and merchants had already set up shop! I slaughtered anyone in arm's reach-- the red blood betraying their uniforms.

I layed in the sun and felt tired. My eyes were closed. When I opened them, the world was all pale blue--like plastic wrap. My wife wasn't wearing makeup. She said she felt car-sick. She could spin spider webbing around an entire day like this, not a waif of gold in sight.