In the constant tramline motion of his trainers

He took the third and added a choice amendment

To their wish fulfilment; but don’t doubt he loved —
He did, big time and strong, the tall buildings wavering.

Sneaker rocker ripping holes in the velvet sky

Beards howl hoot spurt in any/all directions
Celebrate dystopia and delirious freefall!

Knock, come in, close curtain, breathe, slap

And tickle your way — his way — to joyous
Occasional relapse. We are all too fallible,

He noted, riding high on subway vapours, trapping

Phonemes from their speech bubbles, making
Debauched art in the depths of his positronic

Spectacle of sound and deathwish. Drag him

Out of bed, straddle him and know the mosaic
Is riddled with grace and temptation, take a leaf,

Take his better judgement, and heap praise on his

View Down Town — those ticket stubs of pleasure,
those cars stacked high as pheromones;

those lads with eyes on buttercream girls;

those idols with sonic points of reference;
those wizards who sense the coming collision;

those wisps that excite the heart, music spreading gold;

those clotted needles in trash cans searched out again;
Remixing the mess of his days, he checks out of the city

And makes itinerant on country roads, a crossroads

Judgement, a falling in with good ol’ boys

	Who’ll take him down.