Three’s a crowd, three is company. Modern marvels watch like windows looking outward to the world, inside there is black marble and onyx. Granite columns holding up the titans and giants of financial industry. It is crowded and I can’t breathe. Supreme disappointment, aggravated nonsense. Claustrophobia. Snake in a tube, wriggling through. Coiling. Getting ready to strike. Remembering the roomy darkness of the wicker basket. The snake does not like crowds.

I do not miss packed and crowded PATH trains and subways. Sardined just inside the closing doors. Trying not to breathe, not to sweat, not to look anyone in the eye. Just get there by sheer force of will and the power of God, and soon I will be off this bullet and climbing stairs (cursing every one) until I am above ground and now sweltering in the sun, to hopefully soon enter some grand cavern of air conditioning. And I will internally weep as it hits my glistening skin, and simultaneously marvel at the fact that years ago A/C did not exist. And I will think of Mad Men and Don Draper drinking dirty tap water. Feeling like we have gone everywhere and nowhere all at once. Strawberry mistakes with red juice around your chin.

Crowded ballrooms where the voices rise up in a deafening din. There is a DJ fighting for amplitude. My eardrums are pulsing and cursing the day. There needs to be a separation. No more crowds now. Anxiety first. Elementary school gym class and lifting up the multi-colored parachute. I used to love those gym class days. Always so much fun. I hadn’t thought about that in awhile…Crowded clubs and street sidewalks. Long lines. Crowded nest where the runt of the eggs gets kicked out to die and starve. I’ve seen it. I’ve seen it happen on camera. It’s true. And breaks your heart. Crowded because of clutter and depression. Interior panic. Crowded parking lot. There are no spaces. Time to move on. Packed festivals and carnivals. Makes you want to be a card-carrying nihilist.

Author: Roe

30. she/her. Songwriter & Trek Punk Soul™.

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