international night drop

the world into which i was thrown is desolate, dark and devoid of cars ~ populated with the mad, crazy, homeless and very old
is painted in huge swaths of monochromatic washes~
boarded over
and closed

thrown out

a hidden~
tossed aside

an unintended beauty, created with a carelessness



i ~overwhelmed within an undersea diorama of life sized useless

future bedroom ceilings~ crushed glass carpet~ highway skylights~ blackberry nightstands

a curving fluid dislocated sunken crumminess

talk to yourself

in sweaty window condensate conversation

of caged gods and Gundom*
* toy giant fighting robots

food with faces on a hook of honesty

touch it !

a mirrored blindness

this is where the robots live, robots from 1940's stories, before the cold war, before they turned to monsters, back when they were just like us, sad, lonely and wondering why ?
the things we build look like third world amusement parks

where safety cones accentuate the missing
the perfectly flawed patina
i can't begin to explain ~ this everything~ moment
after the war, the war we lost, against poverty, racism and class
rusted horror noir
broken plate glass time travellers
alien languages~ framed with building~ whole buildings
everything completely broken, bent, rotten twisted and functional

nothing to own~ hold in your hands or stuff into pockets
what happened at the Baldwin ? the greens are so very institutional, the brick all poor and in need of pointing, the ground floor windows all plywood sheathed, the tenants used to have drive up drug windows, thus the boulders on the sidewalks, the uninviting entrance~ a stepped on class
after all the wars were lost we turned the nations police, courts and judges to the war on drugs~
to lose that too~
one day we'll open the prisons and find. . . ourselves

i pretend to have favorites
and i do~ MOSS
and sunsets with children and you

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