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Rhetorical Life of Punk and Other
The latter days of Junk St, all the little
punks who threw such vexation
about, are becoming (to) their own
extinction. not to worry
anymore
but for
some
bran'new
badboys
y'can't
even see wit eye(s)
naked.....
& we still are blanched
with blindness as to what
The Neighbors knew and
saw all misinterpreted and
shit.
Crawling wit the (great) cavalcade, it's hard to make step from one's
knees, el'bowes bloody and loaded wit stingin' sore grit.
There's no one left who can imitate the bloodletting
on the shit-dirty floor in the brokedown garage
of homicide's rainy day. It leaks through
the roof holes, After all, it is a near
centennial structure we've fallen
into. Whoever died here ,his
name is lost for want of
blind exigence, and
a new Life to
be envied
yyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyy
2020dkzk...................................................2020
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