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LA | NY A Special Edition of The East Village
Premise No. 1 Blimp soars through shelves, digital ballot wallet While Eternity (usually light blue and soft) In the background (for those who've known these productions) Opts for a carbonizing rain, mapped out, rough crust Flesh, fields. It was Sunday. Bright. Ghost traffic. More news -- Frantically called "events". And later (soon) that "day" Its cultural wing (absolver's racket) voices Were at [pluralism farce] a slam (bam) spunk, bonk. But how does Paternity, for instance opt for Eternity? It can't. Intention speaks that way To remain (as some say) solvent. So, mappings, yes The blimp soared toward the northeast, but its function, stays. Cars were in some mountains waiting to be mined, tires Hadn't bloomed yet, in Burma. It's been a good year It has -- for whom? As some here crave stability Also, no artefacting me-festivals, last. In reference to. And here come them pilots again On tv, mics ogling them, but it's my job, sir Yes, it's their jobs, sure. Plus a miner's babe's been born. You dig, and we'll take that, You take that, and we'll ... Rain From an airplane, like in Da Nang, tonnage, voices And add more coffee houses means more masking too. Monday never really came, though some spoke it -- here Sunday's Tuesday, as thin smoke, still gathering, was By the tracks, stale piss, the plasma center (porch) was Once on the eastline [several] What's the score, who won The game. Faith seeping through the German-made carts, ding 25th and Commercial, the welfare building Mural, child astronaut, you could be this, if try -- Melds into (is that the moon? moon) three tykes pointing And shovels to a garden (flowers) Big Sun, ding Once the doors locked, a g-force let us know we'd moved. OK, what about the reprimand given me Just ten minutes ago by a super/visor Some eye pointing out to her/his skewed sense of time School being mere school, guys guys, gals gals, days mere days, no? Like a recent rap says -- What's yo' name -- foo', I signed The line, compelled, a signature keeps track of ... ding Euclid Avenue, one-third of Detroit boarding Next, landless Chiapanecans. What's the score, who won The game. Faith leaking from the cardboard-made terms, tied That big blimp somewhere about to rise. Artifacts Here come them poets again, mapping. Redemption? Potent motif because zilch (ever) gets redeemed.