Poetry
after noon’s bill put paid to young and out of our heads with ecstasy driven re-current (over the hump that 1930s bridge) all-new drive or lift-off from collision with what’s closing in debt paralysis now light’s red they’re racketing through cost incline inclined to sail sign for mercurial sparks of evanescent brands we’re leaning into the wind of our passing on acrylic legs in line in rhythm in astro-visors unimaginable to those 1960s ones who jumped from bridge billboard ledge fourth avenue windows looking for seventhheaven’s magnolia flesh or sought a way out from (through) midnight’s evacuated depth sufficiently peopled with our own reflection tower on tower eclipse since Blackball’s splash since Peace Parades’ high hope it’s high enough for tugs at flood tide Taylor’s coach-lamp pillars raised a glow above that human flood some 7,000 in from RR yards the wangies stickers pokey stiffs with canned heat, crack now, flaring up through vein flambeaux or stained our mirror glass is electronic tweets ten secs at most gone Digital Native If you lived under this bridge you’d be home by now
