Angry

The boy who tried to tease fate was not getting ahead anywhere, on his motor cycle, for two seconds lead over bus and bus got angry and the life forces flowed in a thin capillary network in a five feet wide white clothed space looking beyond a blue opaqueness.

It is then tubes ,air and liquid ,white robed men sitting in judgment.We have seen it happening again ,not knowing why some days it is not the same sky and green patches ,liquid shadows and train hoots ,why unfeeling buses turn angry.

And why denial starts down there in the depths of tangled bowels that hid nut shaped flesh machines pumping dirty liquids into the world.

All the time big buses get angry .Nut shaped machines deny service .Train hoots do not pierce silence .Everything is angry on some days.

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