Slow Drag

[Free form! On of the few open verses you'll see, so appreciate the lack of attention to rhyme and rhythm. A few things do rhyme but that wasn't entirely intended. Enjoy! Theo]

Slow drag,
magically blissful.
Slow, as if it were precious,
and I look up at the tallest top of the tallest tall building
hoping to stir vertigo with light-headedness.

(Its funny...
how you can't see the stars in the city.)

People pass,
Saying nothing verbally.

I look up,
and I see my reflection
in a metal awning above me.
This is what I look like to stars.

I see volcanic clouds surround me,
streaming from my mouth.
As if beneath my mantle
lived magma,
once pressured and poised to explode,
relaxing with every exhale of ash.

Eventually
inhaling feels as easy as breathing,
in and out... in, out...
(Because ignorance...)

It's funny how you can't see the stars in the city,
because of light pollution, among others.
I wonder if they can still see us.
Sometimes, during certain blushing moments,
I hope not.

Lately I've been trying to take the stairs
over escalators and elevators,
choosing reality over money and machinery,
but there will always be that dependency.

Slow drag,
medically hurtful,
Slow, but worthless.

But!
Its said that ignorance
on fire
is better then knowledge
on ice.

Slow Drag
copyrighted 2009 by Theo Martin