A City Night-View

out the window a choking night-wind blows through the city. rancid and steamy. it wraps itself up my building and into my apartment, running over the floor, and bringing with it the smell of rot and piss-soaked concrete. i push the ragged curtains back and gag. a distant siren wails. dots of light everywhere and a million people stacked in boxes. with pipes running like veins to carry away their filth to some unspeakable place. and dreams. i can never forget the dreams. of better times more space and clean air. fueled by a machine of unfathomable import. wiring me together with them all into a single consciousness: the camera swivels here and we all laugh, it swivels there and we all cry. always, the camera’s titillations run over me. my mind twitches to keep up. and what of the awareness of this mass-consciousness? suppressed in drink, dope, and false faith. two neighbors i do not know erupt in passionate-rhythmic moans just behind the wall. i lay down in my bed and settle in to its years-old imprint of me and wait for exhausted sleep as i fight back the madness of Truth for yet another night.