GESTATE

a slow day wraps itself around work, the distance to work, three unstable meals and the general anaesthesia of unwinding from whatever it was that wound you up in the first place.
the grey turbulance of downtown bites cold into the bone, as i near slip into permafrost and a disorderly season. as i pass the bleak metal glass mount of sinai, i wonder when the official flu season begins, where it all comes from, and where does it all go? i imagine a senior medical officer, who had never prayed to Hippocrates, pacing the corridors of holding cells, calling out to each and everyone of its offspring, its unborn, its undying.
stepping back from unreality, i regain my regular footholds, and head home, wishing that there was more greenery in the city. more life.

"don't let the world wrap up around you, don't forget to call whenever" -sp-

[Back-formation from gestation; Late Latin gestti, gesttin-, from Latin, a carrying, from gesttus, past participle of gestre freqentative of gerere, to carry.]