I’m writing a book. It’s a history book about the last century written in the prose/poetry genre. For more about that go to WRITERS NOTES.
Here’s Today’s Excerpt from S E V E N T E E N / Child of War. Yes, It is quite copyrighted.
At dawn he emerged down from a place of wonder through the Topside entrance of his choice making the way unseen to his network adjacent to a New York City subway station on a side line forsaken since he arrived from Wiemar Germany without a Visa.
Normally he was naked, and walked with the devine thingy going doink doink doink, except for the fedora that was never removed. It was believed that this fedora housed the spark of Tunnelman’s great enlightenment and even in the abysses of the networks lit his way. All others needed artificial light. Mostly it was cooking fires for pilfered eggs and ham. The Eskimos lit hunks of left over blubber the rest of which they attached to the ends of matches for their babies to suck.
Our people came to the subway underground from the accretions of many wars to be free from upheaval. A communist society of like and peaceful souls. our group comprised the Irregulars, the Children of War. There were seventeen of us, specifically from Poland and Montana, to find beatification by the clackety winds of the express trains in the chartlessness of dark lit by The Spark.