(click for more text)
The wheel starts again in earnest--each car has been
quickly emptied, raucously filled, and now the waiting is
We swing over the top, rising on the crest of the horizon
for a moment, drinking in the fast whirling of the universe.
Then we swing under the belly. The green paint of the entrance way
meets us, shows us through, releases us, welcomes us
The asphalt below is no longer sticky with people, but a smooth sheer
blackness that invites us and repels us.
I want, suddenly, to undo the safety harness and step out
onto the ledge. I want my feet to slip on the metallic shiny
sleekness and fall into the never ending black. I do not
think about the people who will look in horror after the
deed is done. I do not think about you.
I want this ride to end only in the comfort of the nonending
black asphalt down there. I want only to end everything in
the death finding safety of the whirling black.
I finger the strap. Your hand restrains me.