Friday, June 18, 2010
Lost, Never Found
An alien in the desert. A tourist in the city. Misplaced? Displaced? With the collective neon glare form a thousand lamps of debt and oil money illuminating an ever churning laundromat of commercialism. Oil dripping like money, money dripping like oil.I'm frowning and being licked by these serpent flames of depletion. Inch by foreign exchange loss inch. Who cares.Everything is so glossy and polished.So unreal and plastic.Not plastic.A Glassy hide it is. Like porcelain dolls.Clean,organised, round circuited ones.This city is like a hooker in the night. Flashy.Tarty.Sexy.It has parking lot innards.A heart of capitalism and mortar veins, smooth and silent.I have seen T-shirts with longer history. Electric eyes. Desert in my finger nails.They have sold their soul for the next big car. Happiness is a warm gun? and Here i am, without you my stranger, dearer than blood. Under the sun. In the thick sultry wind. Sands of time and space are colliding everyday.Are vacuums made of distance?
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