By Tom H. Brooks 3


This morning
Los Angeles is quiet
relieved perhaps
after living in fear for so long.
The air hums
with quiet sighs
and a newborn energy.
The sun has not yet risen
I have
and I ride swiftly on the subway
through subterranean passages…
I get a sensation of tunneling
through the heart of the Beast
engulfed in the circuitry
swallowed up in the bloodline
of the giant metropolis…
The City is above
and all around…
It makes one feel so small
and anonymous…
I travel cold and silent
through darkness
and right into the heart of it…




(Above digital artwork is called The Death of Reason…)



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