I check the time and the weather several zones over; contemplating remixes of far-off places
& people scurrying about on their days gone by.
A shiny red apple and two tangerines escape the box on the stand; taking refuge under dusty oxen cart.
There is no difference you know, save for the weather & branding of businesses.
It wasn’t until I couldn’t get a steak (or a chicken, or a cat for that matter) did I realize we’re all mad here.
It was an atrocious debacle; feathers flying & literal scraping in the streets – one glint of sun, faster than you blink
suddenly everyone knows
we’re all mad here.
The steel sighs heavily, weight of the world pressing. I reach my hand to calm the ache, feeling the shudder of equipment overhead
outside is too bright these days
It’s as if its driven us mad.