A Gap In the Gyre -- Part 2

Jones Day Unwelcome sun Wait Wait Wait “Hey Claire, see if that old queen next door’s got anything.” “I don’t think she’s up yet.” “I will give five bucks for a rinse.” Wait Wait in a parking lot Wait A man at the hotel Nodding off Hugging himself Ignoring Everyone in the building On the street I hate him Why do I hate him I hate him I hope he falls down those Arrival Buzzer Click Door Water Melt Cotton Slam Maybe 3 minutes and I don’t think I can get there I can’t get well 7 balloons Kids birthday party, present but not there And oxy Lighter Desk Crunch crunch crunch sniff The rocket launches off the pad, and it looks like it will get beyond the point it was last time it was there, and just at that moment, when you think you will get there...that you will get into that space you were at the first time, gravity pulls you back down to the earth. Not where you were before the launch, but further, you fall so much it pulls you into the floor. So much, you look up at the back of the floor. I hate that old man because he shows me it’s possible. It’s possible to not die young, and to live long enough in that hopeless dance to really be old and alone and still want to get high. Still try to get there, but not. I hated him. Tired I give Can’t do it no more Time Veins scream Blood craves But it’s okay Ellipses . . .