| |
 ast
act, the End, this is
where we all came in. The
final Apocalypse is when
every man sees what he sees, feels what he feels, and hears what he hears.
The
creatures of all your dreams and nightmares are right here, right now,
solid as they ever were or ever will be, electric vitality of careening
subways faster faster faster stations flash by in a blur.
Pan
God
of Panic, whips screaming
crowds, as millions of faces look up at the torn sky:
OFF
THE TRACK! OFF THE TRACK! |
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