Jan 2 - neurotic prose poem 2

In and out of sleep. Feeling like a series of tubes today, my GI tract, my circulatory system, my inner ear blowing bubbles as we gain altitude. I feel my heart beat in my swollen feet and ankles. I saw a hawk on Boerum Street last week, a big, broad-shouldered, breast-speckled hawk, a pigeon in its talons, twitching on the pavement, releasing his intimate down feathers to the wind. I didn't know I could see such a thing in Bushwick, a big bird of prey, hunting in the late morning.