|painting by Andre Derain|
Freeway traffic, flowing, like lava.
What does unlimited mean?
Answers concealed in distressed wood.
A 9.5 lb. lobster cut me off.
I was like oh no.
Not on my route.
You want to start some shit?
I don’t give a fuck.
In the wake of flux
A faction is born.
A sort of
Understanding I guess,
Everybody waiting for the ten-year to go up,
To bring them closer to the people
And the things they love,
But right now they're sitting in my front yard.
Across devices I hear panic sweeping.
The sound flickers but
It’s not gunfire, it’s the refrigerator.
Don’t get your paddle twisted.
When deputies arrived, they found a fifteen-year
Fixed, throwback merch,
And the artist at work,
Subverting the dominant codes.
© 2021 Randy Stark
Please visit my website at www.randystark.com.
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