Ghostwheel

                             | "As a child, I'd screw my eyes shut,
                             |  clutch the covers, and wait for sleep to
                             |  come, never wanting to watch the roaches
                             |  and silverfish scurry from their cracks,
                             |  never wanting to *know* whether or not
                             |  they were coming closer.
    G h o s t w h e e l      |
                             |  Now, grown, I squat in flat plastek tubing,
                             |  feet disturbing floor grates which bring no
`connect guest` -- newbies   |  rattle.  The soundless guts of the R/T HQ
`who`           -- user list |  spill tortuous into the earth.
                             |
                             |  The droning passes--sound like a pillow
Mail [email protected]   |  pressed around my ears.  A plastek-dulled
  questions or comments.     |  screeching, there and gone.
                             |
                             |  The scurry of the bugs.
                             |
                             |  I screw my eyes shut, clutch my sword, and
                             |  wait for the nightmares to come."
                             |