the curled foot of death

the sounds of the city are engulfing me...sirens, jack-hammers, the whirling of rotary fan blades...i am sitting alone on a couch that smells of cat piss reading celine...could it be any other way?...the darkness of the human being alive in a brain on a couch long after the writer has passed onward into the future, into another hot, sweating, car alarmed night...this strange new world has overtaken my soul and i find myself spinning further into the lonesome abyss...nothing to hold me from the bottomless pit of realization...of every misdeed, infraction, and dark secret of the human soul...it is all here for you and for me, on the streets of this once lovely dutch colony, once english stronghold, and now merely modern city, sadly human...someday the colony will be complete, and we will raise the flag of accomplishment...until that day however, we remain the dark animalia of yester-year...