sliding, falling, gripping, tearing, straining, slipping, spilling and then boomp.  the concrete, the pipes, the cobwebs, the walls, the dim lights in the coridoors, the grey color on the walls, the door, the crack, the yous, the nots, the byes, the mights, the haves, the have nots, the roars of the trucks, the wheels splash splash splish splosh,  the gives, the gots, the dirt, the grot. have I endured, I have, I have not. I live I rot, I rot I live and  what can I do to stop the endless shopping mall. A thought to bear, an ear to there. where is there? is it the myth? an amazon of here or an amazon to there? and who are the butterflies, are they to the amazons a window to the door, brrrrrrrrrop, a crash, a groan, an empty solipsistic sigh, a wing fluttering by, I trawl the pages desperately in this electric sky, I begin to think, then I start to cry, and once i feel I cannot stop, I let myself go and cry and cry and cry and cry. but stop. I hear that the day has not yet gone by? sob, slam, crash, bang, watch-out for the grate, too late. it fluttered by, through the spoke, past the gate and around to which or is that who, what or why?