asteroids to my senses

Asteroid for my senses.
These thoughts seem to flutter through my senses quite like asteroids, revolving and rotating always coming back so often, not noticeable at once. Its been several months since I felt this. This hope for a resolution, a dramatic ending.
I have found God in the blue seat of a torn transit train seating across me with a bright smile hidden behind black tarred broken teeth, a smell of reeking piss and layers of oil, dirt, and grease. I see his smile, he has no home, he has but a nickel and three pennies, a euro a tourist dropped and a small wrinkled and slightly ripped picture of his mother. He sits alone; the car is packed with people resembling sardines in suits and pencil skirts, blackberry’s and Iphones, New Yorkers and Wall Street journals. But the seat to his right is empty; I lift my hand to cover the stench. His arse is angled on the edge as though he was inclined towards getting full coverage of the climatic scene in a film, or waiting for the gunfire to start a three hundred yard dash. He speaks. I put the white plugs on my ears, press the home button, I scroll down to a song and hear the drums boiling sense to my asteroids, throwing my conscious unto a flyaway object. I close my eyes and try to forget the face that looks back at me, the smells that creep up on me. I open my eyes only to find an empty seat in front of full of blood. I look out as the doors close, an there he goes, he begins to tremble and suddenly falls, he seems to be in shock the world stands still but says not a thing, the small picture is floating in the blood. I can’t help but wonder, and ignoring my phobia for blood dip my index finger and thumb to grab the small wallet image. Only to find an image of myself, and all I could do was but ignore him as he stuttered to tell me something. I guess things are here, they have always been, I have just never known the shape of things. If you paint a painting with garbage and multiple TV screens and show it to an indigenous person and ask him to describe the object that they see there, they will see nothing. You see what you know, and what you know is little to something, anything, in reality nothing. please, Open my eyes!