When I was a child, there were three movies.
One had a mermaid
One had a karate-chopping pig
One had hounds of hell
who awoke from stone statues.
And over and over and over, until memorized.
So: it was a magical mythical land. Its spires and sprawl no less defiantly impossible.
One day, to stand there, to see them. To know.
I came at the age of seventeen. From the ferry, I saw the Twin Towers
. I knew. Here, was my density
Now, another decade is past. And when I travel:
Stars and sky and sea and sand
. Nothing but natural. Yet it unnerves me. As though something waits to descend. To intrude.
I've become an agoraphobe, crippled by civilzation.
I think I need to let go of too much