Descent into the Chambers
bring us ever closer to the day
the towers fell.

The stomach is lined with bone.

Several eyes that never pair
flit about and
watch us scatter to various orifices
to escape the bellowing labyrinth.

Black ribs keep us from
shrieking accordions.

No man dare venture into the darkness without armor.

The smog temporarily lifts
when innards swing us towards
a blind Canal.

The Canal washes us all away until Spring.

– Rachel R. Vasquez, 7/1/2015

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This work is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivatives 4.0 International License.

Toying with the idea that the Chambers Street station is actually alive. Was inspired by all the eye mosaics on the wall. I might expand on this more. I feel like I can make more metaphors towards monsters if I keep going. I like the suggestion of the stations after Chambers going uptown. 🙂

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