Weighed down with attachments and made mobile by thoughts cracking like static electricity.
Moving through the city, breathing another century,
alert to the the trickery
Its what makes people go downtown that makes life worth ab-libbing,
learning to live with all the kinks tangled up in ribbons
Sitcoms that never get a laugh crawling up the walls,
rotting the structural integrity.
Around dusk Dracula , in street clothes, can be seen in certain neighborhoods.
Some people, paranoid, think its the FBI sucking on democracy.
Some just trying to live within the limits of reality,
hands reaching out for some solidity,
some just have another coffee.
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