Facebookies networking,
fartsy crowd calling for
hometown ARTifacts
stuff for musee display
readings to be held,
No doubt pinky tea & crumplies,
Politically correct pOloit gab
(I conjure TS Eliot, the women come and go
speaking of Michaelangelo)
In this burg since Seventy,
my mind conjures:
Fermentation clouds,
the choking fumes of legal drug money,
PCBs in rubber river mud,
layeroffs, corporate weddings (mostly shotgun --
matings of nags, viz pure-bloods)
Student ghetto riots,
northside drive-bys
Rolling meth labs,
the homeless drifting through
mall/no mall/mall
eateries that draw
the spikey hair crowd
texting uncalloused fingers to bone
With minute-by-minute drivel,
ceaseless witless B3 searching for silver
bullets to line small business purses,
overcrowded jails,
electrigenetic fish in orange froth water
cabal of deep-pocket dudes
the richegallyrich twanging (or is it wanging?)
political strings,
grinning felonious,
Cheshire cat-like,
at the anonymous top secret
Promise, while moving
jobs across oceans. How do
you make art from invisible scars
wrought by greed,
crap storms, bad karmas,
sort out biz-pap, like
rising tides raising all boats,
Big Corpse profits just
announced back at pre-crash levels,
while the real
jobless rate
hangs at one in five,
unspoken.
Duds: ARTifact
those realities