The Opposite of Wonder

When you design websites it's almost as though you're purposely creating shit art. To manipulate people and machines. Not that different from regular life. Insomniac checkerboards fuss with the pieces until every corner is a blur. I don't know that much about checkmate, but the impasse is all too familiar.

If I could lie down in the middle of the street and just have all the cars and trucks glide over me. Onion paper world to my unsharpened pencil. Mutely tracing anything willing to show through. Imagining myself a passenger in each of those vehicles. Where would they be going?

To the edge of the cliff to contemplate the nothing that may come after this. To the long pauses between the floats as the parade sours into circumstance. To the bottles full of dead genies. Fat with wishes that were used up long ago.