LSD-breakfast

---if this is inappropriate lemme know...---

vis-a-vis a certain highrise on Lake Shore Drive this morning:



I was dressed, just showered, sipping a mug of OJ:

"hmm...why does the newly-installed electric heater reek of ozone?"

wait....that's not ozone...nor, izzit the electric heater

um...and those aren't a cacophony of tinny v-mail machines hardly chirping...staggering one blip upon another in a concatenation of microscopic pink noise[hardly what one considers a fire alarm(s)]

*oh shit*

shit shit shit shit shit fuck

In peppy preparing-to-be-evacuated-mode I began stuffing useful? things into my backpack(didn't help that we are still in the midst of a weeklong "Spring" um...urgh...Fall cleaning...stacks of papers and books in disarray)

okay...fully dressed...got coat/cellphone/um...iPod

with the burgeoning of this horiffic acrid incense: ozone...no, those kiddy cap toys you bang with a hammer, no...metal shop on fire...um...yes

I called downstairs: "just stay in your apartment...*maybe* put towels under the door"

duh...been there, done that...also tested the door for heat...

the smell is horrible and strengthening

I open up all my windows

the backbrain writhes...see, I don't wanna be "one of those people": my mantra as I force the escalating, engulfing

panic

back into it's box

I'm alone

there's no one moving on the floor

I stick my head out the window and glance down immediately withdrawing as I catch the movement of some guy motioning me to stand back

is this close to flashpoint?
did I fuck up by opening the windows(so I can breathe)?
what if it's just below me...will the fire burst open sucking backwards into my apartment?

I can see people in the building across the way watching our windows the way one peruses organic damage; with morbid reserve

smoke dissolves around me, spectral, an exhalation, circular breathing...purling from lower windows...u-turning back and upwards

at first I couldn't reach ---, I left a message

so...he got back to me

and, what do you say?

I'm choking on smoke...deranged metal laquering my lungs, our clothes, books, and food...

and I feel stupid now...but, at the time...

is this it?

I wake, we say our morning goodbyes, I shower, dress, pour myself a glass of orange juice, fuck around a bit on the net...and...

and, I'm thinking so now I get to die by fire? ...never saw that coming...

...or, wait...most bite it by smoke, right?

then...later...when I'm safe(and watching smoke)...so, there goes everything we love...all our amassed cultural wealth and many mana-imbued objects

I suppose mana is best-released by fire, but still..that hurts

...

I've got --- on the phone
he asks if I've checked the hallway
(no, I haven't, I didn't want to allow in whatever's burning out there...peeking through the dusty, occluded peekhole everything seemed as per usual...myopic, scratched, sepia)

so, I do...sweeping aside the massed dampened towels...
fuck
the hallway's smoky

we work it out between the two of us
I'm going to attempt the stairwell as far as I can see

so where the fuck are yr handkerchiefs?
---, you always keep one on the vanity and the one time I need it?
slow down
t-shirts
I have plenty of clean, white undershirts

I make my way down
floor upon empty floor
shirt held up to my mouth
the smoke's thicker here, but not impenetrable
so, a door's gonna explode outward
or, the way is blocked with flaming debris
or, a firefighter will wave me back up

around the 2nd floor I run into some desultory firemen dragging fat hoses(heh) to and fro
they wave me through
"did you see anyone else up there?"

I stood and waited for --- to taxi over
watching smoke billow out of apartments just 3 floors below ours,
a firefighter rip down blinds like so many aluminum streamers,
a thick-gloved hand steadily shattering the storm windows in the first floor salon,

a woman swaddled in black furs strapped to a gurney

when --- arrived we watched longer
then went for a long breakfast at a nearby joint

not that I ate much of mine, but the attempt's the point