field jukebox gambleraku number seven

bought records yesterday,

two Tim Barry joints, plus

a Wino & Conny Ochs

graffito gamblerokkyu quatro

rewilding motherfuckers

wearing brown clothes need to learn

to love dilapidation

kitchen medicine

the Manchurian tea beast

in primitive bottling state,

used to quell inner demons

ancient hobo styles

blurry shadow swagger steps

across railroad ties chasing

a destiny manifested

friday doldrums

peacocks ain't buying shit no more
hardly a gamecock left in this cyber-coop
the family van busted & the washing machine don't drain
because of shoddy plastic parts on the inside
(I know, I've dug into them)
but the world keeps spinning

truck acting like it wants to die
seems like this always happens in
the 250K to 285K range
summertime usually
global warming ain't good on manmade creations
including man
but we'll cross that bridge
then burn it, when the time comes
and the world keeps spinning

work malnourishes me
but gives me money
not enough to pay for all the shit
but if I can keep bailing out water
at half the rate it floods in
I might be able to die while on paid vacation
probably camping as I can't afford a cottage
but at least I can afford to call living outside "camping" still
as the stars slide overhead
as the world keeps spinning

wishing for the past's promises is all I have left
promises of success, of people paying
for the things you like to do
of affording to do those things
without begging, harassing, asking over
and over and over and over...
but the world keeps spinning

it's just life, just work
(because that's this culture's ways)
it's just money
(also this culture's way, tied into the first)
it's just the struggle
(always present, regardless of culture)
it's just feeling compelled to scream into the void
hoping for something to echo back
waiting... waiting...
but I am alone on this ledge,
and I have to accept that shit
while the world keeps spinning

sure, motherfuckers don't care
but they never did
and never will
that's why they are motherfuckers
and there's a lot of them
most every face you greet is incomplete
on the inside, and quite the motherfucker
waiting to be unlocked or just triggered
(as most don't have locks any more)
and I can't take it personal,
it's just the world spinning the way it has always spun
be happy to be sensitive enough to feel the spins
stay grounded enough to not get yourself sick at it
no place will ever be stable in the grand scheme
(not even at the top of pyramids)
it is the way of the people flittering around on the surface
as the world keeps spinning

painting and spackling after work
in a rough country house
as youngest sister will have firstborn
in a month or so, thus we make room...
hope the truck doesn't die in transit
hope the nephew is born strong of spirit
hope he is able to grow old, comfortably of spirit
while the world keeps spinning

I am a natural born gamecock
you can see it in my walk
my shoulders have always been heavy
with chips and weight
and sensitivities to the world's spinning ways
gamecocks make noise to mark domain
gamecocks stab spurs at perceived threats
and gamecocks gonna crow
as sure as the sun rises
because the world keeps spinning

one thousand feathers
while the world keeps spinning

graffitto gamblerokkyu trois

my heart is a high-level

krylon sprayed uselessly in

a world making yard sale signs

graffitto gamblerokkyu two

faded pinks, mustard yellows,

arrows pointing to nowhere

all bounce behind my eyelids

freestyle sonnets

If you get my One Thousand Feathers pamphlets (prescriptions for the future, access to the past), then these will eventually show up as parts of a new Freestyle Sonnets pamphlet at some indeterminate and somewhat unpredictable point in the future. But here a few for those rare motherfuckers that still happenstance upon this site still.

ain’t never no peacock, natural born gamecock,

even when I’m cooped up, I’ve got a free range heart,

with knowledge to impart and instill in hard rock

heads of my offspring born to be performance art

scratching the surface of earth in wild spirals, led

by their spirit more than numbers getting brain crunched,

or soul getting gut punched, their intuition inbred

by mack mental prowess; this bird tribe shall stay hunched

behind your holograms of freedom, built with blood

made of copper, we understand shadow dwelling

is necessary for survival of true mud

mindframes, being outnumbered by the fast swelling

masses of drone cyborg soft wire brained mockingbirds

building intelligence through blindness to black crow words

tapping ties with steel toes chasing horizons west

or south or wherever this open car may go,

I’m not particular to place but strange faces look best

regardless of the light; I’ve attempted to know

a home and a bed to where routine was achieved,

kept my hair trimmed presentably for better work,

better pay, better days promised, yet I received

nothing but discomfort, more bills would always lurk

behind the ones I wrestled away, multiplied

in force, when the freedom I was chasing was right

there behind every freight whistle; this world lied

with what it offered but also lied still each night

and that didn’t match my heart’s wild palpitation,

so I tromped away from life stuck in one station

all the rewilders seem to be white people when

seems it was them who had over-cultivated

civilization in the first place, giving men

climate controlled comfort for domesticated

creatures to survive even thrive despite living

contrary to feral beginnings learning fire

to crawl towards burning permanence, misgiving

progress to the rest of nature, bound by barbed wire,

and now they come bowing back - white skin in brown clothes,

sheltered noses turned upwards at those who refuse

to accept the blank-eyed gazes of those who chose

to say purposely “we rewild” when this mind ruse

to feel better about man’s tinkering with planned

tinkering in reverse still doesn’t understand

better to force words to fit ancient way rhyme schemes,

but not too ancient because wasn’t no words wrote

back when you worked the fields with no room for day dreams

because every moment was it, no footnote

to refer at, deferring to wisdom obtained

by scanning scribbles with meanings using two eyes

connected to memory bank investments trained

to attach abstract concepts to the lines that rise

off flat papers, abstractions built together tall

to create warnings and stories and histories

and give depth to fleeting moments, to help install

meaning to the mundane, moving the mysteries

of existence into books that exist only

to share man’s past minutes, making life less lonely

shadowland mind puppets born from massive neglect

of intellect, left to rot staring at boxes

of extra-sensory deception, we henpecked

of our thousand feathers by electro-foxes

praying upon bended knees in cubicle chairs

where our asses is as fat as cookies hidden,

crumbling the hard drive into lost fragmented lairs

of despair and distorted contortions given

freely, freedom and free dumber both doubling down

on recovery techniques that never tested

publicly or were proven to be cap-and-gown

worthy, but all alternatives weren’t divested

thoroughly, but that’s okay we stroll lack-a-dazing,

stars light the path, but we blind indoors screen grazing.

just kicking it y'all at the rail yard

where the wandering winds lead

me, I follow those whims blown

through my mind suggest going

graffitto gamblerokkyu

primer base coat on throw-ups

ensures longevity which

means you gain fame forever

what I read in bed last night

I went old school and held actual printed paper in my actual human hands last night. The digital revolution is not a revolution at all but merely the television program they put on trying to prove Gil Scott-Heron wrong in being all like, "See? The revolution was televised. We have so much power in our hands!" Bitch please, you got a goddamn all-the-time commercial in your hands. Now go click refresh on your soap operas.

TAO TE CHING translation by Burton Watson
I've actually had this copy of this book since college a thousand years ago, and love the translation. Also this dude Stephen Addiss who used to run a haiku group in Richmond did the brush stroke art, which adds a nice layer to this copy. I was sitting in the woods yesterday, stalking a fox who had been stalking my chickens (and pretty much killed off my flock) because I was gonna suplex that motherfucker then DDT him (or her... I am not above violence towards fox women, especially when they kill my chickens), and just sitting in the woods got a lot of the Tao Te Ching poking around my head. We live in a time of a myriad of explanations for a lot of shit that doesn't really need to be explained. It might seem like I'm just talking yin-yang when I was doing that "truth-free pamphlet" bit in that one youtube video but I actually meant it. There is no explaining everything, figuring it all out, putting a checkmate move on existence. It ain't gonna happen, for you or me or anyone. So I figured I needed to contemplate on the Tao Te Ching a little more, although I found it somewhat boring and contemplated making my own translation of the various translations I have. Perhaps that will be a thing this fall, or perhaps it will not.

RAILROAD SEMANTICS #2 by Aaron Dactyl
Trains been calling me, meaningless travel's been calling me - and not travel like flying somewhere because I look at flying to some destination like having an epidural child birth - it's not natural, and you are removing yourself from the actual experience. Obviously I'm a dude, not a woman, so my opinions on child birth mean nothing, but from watching a few and what I've learned with my ol' lady, there's some connection within the mother to the passage of child into this world from that incubation state. Post-partum depression is less common in women who have natural child births and feel that passage, which also would make sense because under epidural you're coached to travel that passage as opposed to feeling the natural urge. Travel is like that too - the act of getting somewhere is more than just going to the beach - it's the trek to the beach, and the roads you travel, places you stop, weird shit you see along the way. The more obscure your travel path can be means the less bullshit ads and strip malls and crap like that are in your way fouling up the trip.
Aaron Dactyl's Railroad Semantics has its limitations, as all zines do, but I enjoy the fuck out of it. It's not great writing like you'd recommend it to everyone you saw, but it's good writing about good subject matter that's more than worth your time if you are feeling the call of freight trains but have to lay in a fucking bed at 10:30 at night so you can get up at 4:30 and go deliver coffee for a bunch of cancer doctors.
Which brings me to the issue at hand - how to find nourishment in an malnourishing employment situation? I am malnourished socially, as I am surrounded by the pear-shaped bureaucrat people who tend to look like chickens. (I think the lizard people use the chicken people to keep things in order - the chicken people are a buffer against wild domesticated humans who may or may not go wild again.) Socially, a lot of the people I became an adult with as well as the influential social factors in the area I live, they've all become bougienati (bourgeoisie illuminati) who think an independent restaurant with wacky decor and a good microbrew selection is the greatest achievement that can be made in life post-age 30. Neither of these are things that feed me, at all, even slightly. The internet seems to be a snarky place where the bougienati sort of hone their social skills as internet heavyweights are social lightweights in real life. So that doesn't feed me either. So what feeds me? I don't fucking know. I think I need a face tattoo, like hobo crusty punk fuck-ups like Aaron Dactyl, but I guess my childhood wasn't fucked enough to quite put me over that edge. If I ever hit some sort of lick and end up to where I don't have to have a regular job, I'm going to celebrate by giving myself a face tattoo though - probably a tiny star outside my left eye.
By the way, I'm not sure if anybody is ever here - by deactivating my Facebook and Twitter I sort of cut myself off from being like, "HEY! LOOK AT THIS NEW MEANINGLESS SCREAMING INTO THE VOID I DID AT MY OBSCURE BLOGSPOT WEBSITE!" so I'm not sure if anybody realizes this exists outside the fog, albeit still inside the fog, but if you were thinking to yourself, "Man, that Raven Mack is great, I'd like to get him a present as a token of my enjoyment for all the dumb shit he does inside the internet," you could purchase me any Railroad Semantics issue from issue 3 through 7. Plus it'd support Aaron Dactyl. Or you could just buy a prescription to One Thousand Feathers, and I could support him myself, although I'd probably just funnel that paypal money into printing more One Thousand Feathers. But if I've learned anything thus far with my various projects the last few years it's that very few people give a fuck. They all want to be entertained, through methods that are convenient enough to them they don't have to exert themselves. And they only really want to spend money on microbrews at restaurants for the most part. Eventually America will be nothing but restaurants, with a hierarchy of places to eat where restaurant workers at high end places will afford to eat at mid-level places, and so on down the line, and the poor service industry people will eat shitty fast food, and shitty fast food workers will get food stamps and eat processed foods from Wal-Mart and this will be seen as a pure form of survival in an America completely gentrified by the bougienati.
Goddamn, I need to just turn my family into hobos or something. This shit is getting trifling to keep pretending is worth the effort - this site, this job, this country, the whole overly-complicated bullshit that we call civilization and culture and right and progression from a primitive state.

america the gambleraku homepix

America, that lying

bitch ass motherfucker sold

me weed but it's just parsley

field jukebox gambleraku number six

easyriders' magazines'

in the wind photo sections

corrupted me as youngster

what I read in bed last night

Here are a few items that crossed my eyeball radar last night, which is not actually radar because humans are not fucking machines, not even close, so hey let's try to stop making those metaphors okay? WE'RE NOT FUCKING MACHINES AND WE DO NOT HAVE WIRES AND SHIT LIKE THAT AND OUR PARTS ARE NOT INTERCHANGEABLE LIKE AN '87 CHEVROLET CITATION OR SOME SHIT. Okay, here is the first article...

BURIED SECRETS: How An Israeli Billionaire Wrested Control of One of Africa's Biggest Prizes from The New Yorker
So I tend to read a lot about Africa lately, as I half-heartedly contemplate further work on a story about African football. Africa is both a beautiful and fucked place, and being I am a believer in the beauty of chaos, Africa is one of the last great places on Earth, because it lacks a lot of infrastructure. This is good, although the conceited ego of mighty capital will have you believe that being undeveloped means you are lacking. Well motherfuckers who believe such a thing, please read this article, because "development" usually means somebody getting over, making money, handing back quarters, and all the development is just necessary by-product for transmission of wealth, meaning roads develop to transport product, education develops to give local labor forces the proper skills to perform needed duties, etc etc. God, I have so many thoughts about this article it's hard to even know where to begin. So let me get what would probably be construed as racist thought out the way first.
The Beny Steinmetz dude featured in this article reaffirms my suspicions about Israel's higher-ups being higher-ups being a fraternity that exploits others, being good at playing both their "we are freedom in the Middle East" card as well as the religiously oppressed card. In fact, it fucking sucks that if you question the obvious bastard nature of a guy like this Steinmetz, who puts personal gain over greater good at any crossroads of decision, then you get the anti-Semitic charges thrown back at you. However, I will clarify, I don't think it's inherently part of being Jewish, or even Israeli, that you shadily negotiate mineral rights deals in the Third World and expect every motherfucker on earth to respect the legality of these sketchy arrangements. In fact, that's one of the first misconceptions to mention in today's long-winded What I Read In Bed Last Night, that legal means right. Legal has very little to do with right or wrong, although it is often romantically attached to the notion that laws are made to ensure right and outlaw wrong. The weak link in that chain of thought is that laws are made by governments and governments are very rarely infallible when it comes to righteousness.
Which brings me to another point to take away from this article. The various regimes of Guinea, and in fact all of "developing" Africa are looked down upon for their corruption, because with a simple bribe you can have your way as an outside exploiter. But isn't this basically what happens in American government as well, albeit done in a more complicated and legally-endorsed way through corporations? The term "kleptocracy" was create because of Robert Mugabe of Zimbabwe, but lately I've pretty much applied the term "corporate kleptocracy" to America, and you cannot argue against it. Our food laws, our health care laws, everything is done for the benefit of an industry leading the fight. Obama's health care law was not some guarantee of health care being provided for all citizens - it was a requirement that everyone have health insurance, which then assumes that health insurance will ensure you are provided with health care. This does not make health care more affordable, or health insurance less of a fucking pyramid scheme. This is the corporate kleptocracy at work.
So by being more simple about it, not involving legal justifications and lawyers and the myth of a "democratically elected" legislative body to underwrite the kleptocracy, somehow Africa is a lesser version of government. I mean, I get it - ideally government should be working for the benefit of the people, all of them in fact. But that doesn't really happen all that much on earth.
But more importantly, this is about development/exploitation of Africa. Steinmetz was in early on the Guinean deal, and as Obama's recent trip to Africa showed, there's a struggle right now between China and the U.S. for developing control of Africa's resources. China has a huge lead, because it's been building railroads and factories and all types of shit in Africa for the past two decades. Part of the reason for lack of infrastructure in Africa, oddly enough, is colonialism, because once all the western powers were expelled to a certain extent starting with the independence of Ghana (touted in this article as a shining example of African democracy), in order to maintain their philosophical purity, western powers held back on exerting too much influence over Africa, for fear of looking like the colonial rule was still in place through proxy. However, the vast resources combined with Chinese development is starting to prove to hot an apple pie in the window to resist.
But mostly this article just drove home to me that the idea that capitalism provides for the greater good of all of people is just straight up bullshit. I mean we all should know that by now, but many don't. I'm not sure how allowing a few people to get really rich off exploitation of finite resources, which provides jobs of various levels to other people locally, is considered beneficial to all, much less sustainable. We are basically just ripping everything out of the earth, making it into something else, selling it to each other, and being like, "YAY!" when we are up on the ladder, or chastising those low on the ladder. I don't get it.
But speaking of not getting things, in relation to America...

LOS INFILTRADORES from The American Prospect
Simple article about illegal immigrant college-aged kids becoming activists because they couldn't go to college even though they already lived here. Key part of this is the mentioning of ICE facilities being built, the Corrections Corporation of America's involvement, and how keeping people detained for being an illegal immigrant creates revenue for these companies. This is the corporate kleptocracy at work again. It doesn't benefit the desire to have "34,000 beds" filled to actually stop illegal immigration at the border. And it doesn't benefit that goal to allow illegals to be legal. So again, this is not about jobs or freedom or anything like that. In fact, there are many industries completely dependent on illegal laborers to keep their labor costs down (namely construction, but also food service to a lesser extent). Now that these industries have turned the difference in labor costs into profit, they're not going to let go of that.
The Martinez girl in this story from Sanford, North Carolina, was especially interesting to me. Piedmont North Carolina/Virginia is what I consider home, geographically, and the influx of Latinos in the past two decades has been very noticeable. But it's also been good, as it's sort of cross-pollinated local culture with this new culture. I mean for fuck's sake, I saw El Hijo Del Santo wrestle in Raleigh a couple years ago.
They built an ICE facility where I grew up in Farmville, Virginia, and it's always seemed like more of a generating revenue issue than enforcing laws to protect innocent people from horrible people type thing. I had a trash fiction piece in one of my recent One Thousand Feathers pamphlets about this actually.
Immigration itself just seems weird to me, as no one chooses where they were born, so it's hard to understand why people get so hung up on where they live as being superior on such a meritocratic level. It's not like there's an application process to being born and the cream of the baby crop is chosen by America. It's all chance. But if people are looking for opportunity, why stifle that? If someone else loses an opportunity, can they create more, or move elsewhere? I realize this is naive, because it would create cow herding mentality towards jobs, and plenty of people don't have the means to move, so I do not pretend to solve the World's problems, which probably can't be solved anyways to be honest, but I am smart enough to know that just criminalizing something that you basically allow to happen so that a private industry can accumulate revenue off of government pay, there's nothing righteous or ideal about that.
Plus, it's nice to see these kids being activists in such an outward way. Lots of activism is more about making the activist feel better about their privilege, without any real risk to that privilege. It's a sort of theatrical calling attention to something social tirade almost. "I'm educated and born linked into what makes one successful, but I realize these other people are not being taken care of and I want to point that out!" goes the activist, but then many times they are assimilated back into the privilege they were born from, albeit with some sort of liberal psychological justification to what they are doing, to make them feel like they are living a principled life. Activism by those who stand to lose what they have always means more. When you have less, it takes a lot of guts to risk that for a cause.
It also leaves me wondering what the fuck I'm fighting for? What am I doing? I'm not sure. The fog is thick it seems. Speaking of fog...

JOHN GRAY'S GODLESS MYSTICISM from The Los Angeles Review of Books
This book review has sold me on finding a copy of John Gray's new book because he seems to be writing about a lot of what I've been percolating upon lately. Namely, there is no utopia to be found, no saving of the earth from climate change, no real purpose to existence in the sense that there's some great realization or achievement you are slowly working towards in your life and the purpose of life is to work towards that moment. This type of thinking seems to pervade a lot of what we do, that there needs to be some sort of closure or settling of situations. For example, I used to do music with a dude all the time, but I started to see a bad relationship's patterns in how we did what we did, and after it became obvious little effort was expended in return compared to the effort expended out, I just cut ties. I mean fuck it, why keep putting out where you're not getting anything back? That's stupid. Mutual friends would bring it up at times, as if things would settle and get back to what they were, and it was even presented to me to make amends here or there. But amends for what? Why do we feel the need to find closure in situations like this? Sure, people change, but that creates all the more reason to move on and never look back, because you don't have to be there for the change, or even worry about it. We have this feeling that we've invested all this effort and it was working towards some ultimate purpose, so even if there becomes a rift in that effort, we need to have some sort of closure to the relationship, to I guess put it as part of a trial and error process towards our ultimate purpose, and happily and amiably accept it as an error in effort. But why do we assume that working towards an ultimate purpose in our life has to be happy or amiable? Why do we assume we can make the world better? Have we shown any consistency as humans in making the world better? I mean we create solutions to our own problems, and create our own problems to find solutions for, usually making these things more complicated the longer we are allowed to thrive on earth.
There's really a ton to this book review that's worth reading - it's basically a One Thousand Feathers pamphlet itself - but I appreciate the sentiment that it's worth looking into the mystic poet types more. I've strayed from doodling in my Taoist books the past year, and that's probably why I'm so lost right now, feeling alone. I've confused myself into thinking there's some sort of purpose to what I do, that it all has to culminate in something. It doesn't. It is just shit we do. I need to concentrate on doing the shit that feels good to me, and by concentrating I mean I shouldn't have to think about it. If I am thinking about what I'm writing, then maybe I shouldn't be writing it.
The hard part for most humans when confronted with this idea that there is no purpose to humanity, no ultimate realization to be found, no specific purpose to life other than to exist is that then they got discombobulated with the question of, "Well, then what the fuck should I do? If there is no purpose, why bother?" I guess the only real answer I can think of is if you don't bother, then you don't exist. And if the only purpose to being human is to exist, then by not existing you fail. I mean fuck man, that's all you have to do is be alive. I've been trying to tell myself this lately - that there's no perfect job or realization of others that my strange ramblings have merit or any of that. I have a job that doesn't nourish me, but whatever man, I live in a world where jobs have become the means to navigating society, so I guess having the means to navigate our culture gives me an advantage many do not have. And trying to make people aware of merit to my ramblings is really such a futile effort, because you have to badger people like a salesman to even get them to look through the fog or their already settled realm of rambling indulgences, that it sort of stains whatever righteousness may have been there in what you were doing in the first place.
Personally, I am happiest when I am hiking railroad tracks at a couple of secret spots when I know the railroad workers are not there, vibing on the river and freight cars and being alone. It is my most happy time. I actually did a bunch of research on the area I hike mostly, and it's a national historic landmark, with the address concealed, which leads me to believe there must be some hidden awesome shit there that I should check out. Which means I should indulge that happiness more, because there's no other purpose to my life than that.

ARE HUMANS JUST ANIMALS? from Evolving Thoughts
This further talks about higher purpose, and how science tends to still think of being human as a completely separate type of animal existence than all other animals. I dig this dude's angle though, but wanted to bring specific attention to what he says about functional MRIs, as that's a popular trend in brain science, to show what's lighting up in the ol' brain as someone performs an activity inside an MRI machine. This John S. Wilkins dude does a good job of laying out how ridiculous and misguided this is in reasoning that we are now learning how the brain works better from these fMRI studies. It also - and I have thought this ever since I was a kid - boggles me that we somehow feel as humans we are being objective about studying and proclaiming the greatness of our brain WHEN WE ARE USING OUR FUCKING BRAIN TO DO THE STUDYING. How can we even pretend to be unbiased? We don't even have cognition of what an unbiased non-human thought would be like. So when we declare human thought to be unlike any other animal way of thinking in superior ways, we are doing so without any knowledge of any other animal way of thinking. Basically we are saying we are the best because this is all we know, therefore it has to be the best.
But in terms of other animal ways of thinking, let's close out with this...

MOSCOW'S METRO DOGS from The New Yorker
There are better articles, not to mention a whole lot more available to read about the stray dogs of Moscow, but this is nice little update about what's going on now, today, with the semi-wild dogs of Russia, if you've read about them previously. I've been thinking a lot on the wild horses living in coastal Atlantic communities, who are not wild as in never tamed, but domesticated horses that re-wilded. Russian dogs on the subway are the same thing - not wild in the sense they are fucking coyotes learning to live with humans, but domesticated dogs that have re-wilded. I feel like there's some sort of re-wilding of humanity that's probably necessary to allow us to adapt and survive what we've done thus far as a species on this planet's surface, but I'm not sure what that might be. I'm not sure how you re-wild people, or what that accomplishes. Maybe it accomplishes nothing but at least muddies up our natural offerings as varieties of human, and gives us as a species a better chance to continuing to exist, which is - if you've been reading along this far - perhaps the only point to us being here anyways.

graffiti limbo forever as well

made this my facebook cover

then killed my facebook profile

because fuck all y'all, for real

wtf 4ever imo

beauty obscured by simple

obfuscation of spirit,

tricking robot overlords

New Jack arms crossed

the X that marks the spot is

rarely seen and never felt

since the X is internal

still graffiti limbo ancient hobo ya bish

what y'all dream of, I wander

what y'all scheme of, I squander

what y'all meme of, I father

new cats gambleraku

old records and raggedy

shelter cat make good combo

for encouraging loungers

another dilapidation doohickey poem

exposed nail full of magic

drips good luck on all who dare

enter the Bird Tribe compound

mimosa homage

mimosas are sexual

with me, fingers sticky from

picking pollen-thick flora

more cicada nonsense

cicada moon rock doom scene

as orange laser beams melted

my physical after click

cicada storm

I'll be honest - already

I miss cicada rhythms

littering aural backgrounds

graffiti limbo RIP Michelle Shocked's soul

like America itself,

this faded rusted throw-up

is forgotten and useless