Hello there dear blog. how

Hello there dear blog. how about writing posts while standing on a speeding train, leaning against a thin metal door, one layer of fast aging glass,deep under the streets of the city perhaps... how about beginning a sentence in midtown and ending it somewhere below soho? how about asking a question under the surface of manhattan and possibly finding an answer to it on the other side of the east river. delancey will be the next stop, the door will open behind me... maybe some of the air trapped in this car will then have a chance to escape? maybe? two guitar players are now holding on to the same pole. two men are solving the same crossword puzzle, two men to the right are reading along the pages of the same issue of the new yorker. the books read by the two women to my left look very different. from here i see three people with ipods. i am right now the only person crazy enough to write while we are under water. i will publish somewhere above smith street and ninth... ninth street, i guess, that station far above the neighborhood. the bridge from which i will post this is a giant black monster, its raincoat held in place by aluminum buttons. will the bridge ever undress? we are down to one guitar player, all the other players are the same, still. one of the crossword puzzle guys is a lefty. maybe it is not the same paper. maybe these are not two copies of the new yorker... i can now see the titles of the books at least... or is it chapters? "balsamic dreams"... "a series of unfortunate events"... next stop... carroll street... the lefty just threw his paper to the floor... the girl next to me is putting on makeup. her reflection looks much older than her.. wait, there, green lady... we are above ground... and so here i post... ; ) the other man picked up the dropped paper... (a palmpost)