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
