The Man in a Video
"And what should I assume?"
—B. S. Eliud Acrewe
It was as though he was not real, he did not exist.
In big sunglasses, he appeared upon the River Styx,
afloat and flowing down the subway, underground and dark.
He had to go. He had no choice. He had to drive the car.
A carousel of signs went spinning. "What I'm saying is
just this: the parking lot garage is a mirage he missed."
He rode the elevator to the escalator's drop.
He had to go. Like that, it happened, an improper prod,
beneath the curving highway ramp, cemented in a swirl.
He turned around and found the fish had bitten off the lure.
He sat upon the toilet seat. He looked up at the box.
He had to go. He had no choice. It was his time to fob.
"And what should I assume?"
—B. S. Eliud Acrewe
It was as though he was not real, he did not exist.
In big sunglasses, he appeared upon the River Styx,
afloat and flowing down the subway, underground and dark.
He had to go. He had no choice. He had to drive the car.
A carousel of signs went spinning. "What I'm saying is
just this: the parking lot garage is a mirage he missed."
He rode the elevator to the escalator's drop.
He had to go. Like that, it happened, an improper prod,
beneath the curving highway ramp, cemented in a swirl.
He turned around and found the fish had bitten off the lure.
He sat upon the toilet seat. He looked up at the box.
He had to go. He had no choice. It was his time to fob.
