clambering over the bodies

... so it goes, another holiday shot, shived and shoved, pushed aside, in a glide, diced, sliced and iced to make room for another as the band plays on bing bang bong.

the years are blurring like a reflection in the subway windows as it careens through the 42nd street station at 78 mph and i can't get on and i can't get off, just riding it out too tired to care in this winter of my discontent with no meaning as i age away and as usual... so it goes.