and then.......
then nothing and more
of the babble, the orange psychobabble shrill in it’s enrichment when

asked of the past memory, that you have to be accurate or attempt
to the best of your knowledge without codes of euphemism,
quote without color, what’s impossible, this other version,
colored select.......

but I remember, was uttered and into the void of recall went the
oracle, in a desperate attempt to resurrect sight and sound, twenty five years past, of sixty five chevy wagons, of the bridge back then, what was to drivers from the outback; the williamsburgh

in all it’s narrow-landed petulant glory, it’s adversary to an old car
beaten bruised and bloodied in faulty alignment that hurtled us
sideways across the span that emptied into the neglected ward of the colored and the poor, down the boulevard toward a doom only life could
create,

screaming 'round corners while hubcaps rolled and clanged into the
gutter, before the gentry brought uptown down to a post Lindsay disco yippie glitter punk pre glamgrunge electronica retro ska clubland dubbed into fly by drive through a web of desire, before the dawn of a new era where accountants rule and all is commodity

beyond an assembly line of expression puncuated by false hope you fell into the sky
tattered for fashion and gathered for inspection only to return next week to get beaten up
all over again

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