Doom // in the Rain // today: Chicago EL // Train(s), the bodyflats // to sore ‘em // in “Formal // Desire”
Chicago, like every fucking Body, has experienced its moments of Hail, which seem to be moments that stretch seamlessly from one day into the next day & truly appear as if, they have no End.Right from the first moment, it feels as though, a bull-rushing, a bombing, was to-be detonating, was to-be trampling right through each fiber of the inner Walls, although, one in which, no Glass would shatter, no Voice would tear-through the Night, or the Day, through a tensed Face in an eruption, or rather the Delay right before the Eruption would let out a Scream, or perhaps would just be a Whimper, or even just a Yawn, one in which, *this would threaten to swallow-up not only the entirety of the Face, but the Body as well & of course, each inch of The City.
