In a previous life you were an entire forest. Selling life insurance in one of those big skyscrapers downtown. You could actually feel the thoughts alighting from your mind like so many birds. And you’d stop off at the bar after work on the way to the train. You’d down your first drink in blur and then maybe a second. You’d sniff and suckle the very air. Stale smoke, Murphy’s oil soap and some kinda of flower. Maybe it was perfume but it felt more delicate. Often some guy would start chatting you up about “Hey, where ya work?” or some wildly boring one liner. And you’d toss back your drink and roar blood all over the horizon.
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