The cars sped by, blue, black, silver, white
I set my speckled brown, cracked down the middle tray on the wobbling cafeteria table
and leaned so far back in the splintered blue plastic chair
I fell


And then glowing metal sticks reached up
trees into the tiled off white sky
Contorted creaking plastic loomed in alien monstrosity, inches from my face
and patches of eyes and hands and shirt sleeves
glowed through spaces in steel foliage


The blurs of human hues blended behind cool metal cages
fingers grasped shining silver bars in white knuckled desperation
Eyes bored through mazes
of unforgiving intertwining steel


I gasped and fumbled for a handle hold to pick myself up
the table edge bit into my hand
I fell into my cracked plastic seat and stared at faces collaged in awkward juxtaposition against resolute edges and manufactured meals
amongst identical seats and surfaces and smiles


The bars didn’t go away.