Free prose...
A skyscraper,
The lights of a city,
A city 40 million strong,
and the flashing lights pulsing a very human beat.
A spirit,
Floating - it screams,
300,000 miles per second,
Another humdrum downtown sound resounds.
Scaling up the building,
A fire in the gut,
Ascension,
To the top of a melancholy phallic device.
A saxophone...
Plays in the middle of a square,
The man knows his art,
He plays to the tune of a whole generation.
A taxi flies by,
It's actually flying,
You know the story,
And inside a man goes from A to B.
Group of people in the street,
Talking, laughing, drunk...
Car comes by: honk, honk, honk.
Group gets mad, knock knock: fight.
Boys walk down,
Studious from the bibliotheque,
Hooker with a baby and a cigarette,
Scared as they are, they walk.
There's a saxophone...
Down the block,
A man with shades,
Cheeks swollen from the air; blowing a dream.
And ten miles away,
Deep in some kind of suburb,
The lights still shone,
A girl stares out her bedroom window, pondering.
Down a dark alley,
Deadbeat hobo scarfing down scraps,
Full bottle of liquor,
Boy, the stories he could tell.
Church bells ring,
11 rings, twilight shone from a full moon,
And as the last ding blares out,
A thousand doves fly into inky blankness for no apparent reason.
A saxophone again...
Sweet melody, Jesus...
This man knows your life, your emotions,
He understands, creates the butterflies coalescing in your heart.
Too many men,
Evil, satanic glares; but in pressed Italian suits,
All white, all WASP, all enormous groomed beasts,
All smoking cigarettes, poison from their mouthes, in front of the Marriott.
Colors,
Orange, purple, green-haired women.
The elementals of a universe,
Those bearing children of all natures, naturally.
Golden arches,
Green caffeinated letters,
American flags giving money,
You find it all offered in this place.
You can still find the hungry children,
the polluted lakes,
the ice,
no longer is it seen from this grave ocean,
an abyss of humanity,
lights flicker in my mind,
dead bugs flying,
but those dead bugs are us,
getting too close to that light,
forgetting the light is something we don't know,
so it zaps us,
we falls to the ground as everything turns on us,
still in confusion we ask why? Why? WHY?
but there's no answer,
in this grave, beautiful structure,
where is the love?
is it everywhere?
the lights flickering ever more,
screaming out in my mind,
the glass breaks into thousand upon millions of shards
shock waves dissipate across miles
from this heart
the foods,
the markets,
grounds shake,
earthquakes shutter,
the world as we know it crumbles,
in the face of this Western disaster.
But there there's this saxophone...
The brass locks and valves exemplify,
what a mind of my nature never could,
the soul, the elegance, the beauty.
Alas, I am saved.
Thank you.
