Making a living in the sprawl

In empty hours,

the voice cracks, Philco blaring scandals and crimes, suits parading, time is thrown away.

Acid rain falls on weather-worn faces beneath concrete skies, climate change, old patterns.

Blondes on TV, burritos mass-produced, broken dreams, cars parked, waiting for summer.

Dark kisses fade into the gray morning, the forgotten, amused by media-driven lives images trespassing on crippled emotions.

Artificial knowledge disappearing from the mind’s eye, endless slavery in the sprawl