Transcranial magnetic nights in Manhattan

Static charged eyelids

Blind consumption and stimulation

Block letters and gas stations

Radical presence with chatter

washing over like Ophelia rain

Corpse toenail skyscraper shrouded in mist

I dream of consciousness

blank like a cold fireplace in an abandoned house

Horns honk

Sirens wail

I drift by in drowsy gray sleep

Matt Bechtold lives and writes in Los Angeles.