72
HOURS AT A TIME
In
the crowded city streets of
Waiting
for the sun to finally fall to again experience the weird & insane
-
to escape the pop-framed mundane & arise from concrete ashes
-
An elevation w/ stars - at such a perilous height
Tripping,
stumbling, trying to run and kick the night to the other side of morning
From
bloody sun to bloody sun – red belly skies across American & Russian
cities
Landing
gear, squeals, velocity aborted, rumbling down a runway somewhere not home
Nobody
really knows the youth shot in the arm, mistakenly trapped in a t.v. set
Patterns
of numbers and images of sound transmitted through waves of oceans
I
pass bye. You look and smile
from-with-under your hat, feel numb and forget
Maybe
fame won’t find us in these cabs, streets, bars & hotels – where I see
something
Back
there - over my shoulder - as I
remember to look behind before I leave
Swimming
in moonlit tides with the best and brightest of our generation
Outpacing
her traces – where she can no longer rot my teeth with sweet, plastic kisses