The color of stepped on gum
is the color of our times.
The light of our times is
the light in the 14th St.
subway at 2 a.m. The air
of our times is the air of the
Greyhound depot, Market
& Sixth. It is prime time. A passed
out sailor sits pitched
forward like a sack of laundry
in a plastic bucket seat
his forehead resting on
the movie of the week. The Long Goodbye.
2 comments:
Just reread the book, and re-viewed the movie. Current colors or our time should be more interesting--all bright and digital--but I just get overstimulated (and not in a good way).
Would like to reprint the poem on my blog--permission?
O
O,
Sure, and give a link if you can?
Saw the film myself not long ago. The opening sequences, brilliant, casual, almost like life... could the bit with the kitty possibly have been rehearsed?
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