New Jersey Coast Line

July 20, 2010

There is always something about a train ride that provokes relaxation, solace, and deeply profound thought. It may be the rocking motion that tosses its citizens horizontally, or possibly it may be the rapidly transforming cityscapes into landscapes into industry-scapes into ghettos into gated spaces of money and secrets. I have no idea who are my neighbours in this train community, but we all share a moving space that leads us into wonderous directions. But we are sheltered residents of this train, we are not forced to bear the elements of a globally warming summer that screams calls of distress from Gaia, the mother we step and spit upon while she continues to foster the breath of our lives. The ones living in Gaia’s glory are those children playing in their Walmart manufactued DIY swimming pools filled with oxygenated urine and hydrogen-laced bodies of expired leaves and insects. I wonder if the children believe the waves in their water are from the sea, or have they lost their innocence to realize that it was the train disrupting that once flat transparency. In the midst of thought, I become lost, and at a moment stationed in reality: why is the IKEA next to the Airport?