Friday, September 07, 2007

Can't TXT You Hell - Observation

Here I am at the front of the crowd, an island of cool the jewel in the shroud wandering through the chaos of common folk no egg-white me just solid yolk with my head full of steam and thumb to the key key keys
key-tones, ring-tones polyphonic panic, the boy in the bubble-wrap suit, dressed to kill but oblivious to all hard-fought traffic and luckless pedestrians, the little screen spewing garbage un-recycled and unrepentant while the empty head shouts me me me.
Fuck me fuck you reality sucks pigeon survival skill Darwin deluxe, I head for the front of the oncoming bus whose driver is talking to his mate in Hammersmith and his cell phone eyes rolling in Slavic disgust at the English summer that threatens to make better swimmers out of all of us.
My chalk outline across Mercedes Benz logo, windscreen wipers disturb my lunatic fringe gel slick tick tock tick tock the little hand tells me I’m out of time - off the clock.

1 comment:

Mass Media Prof said...

Evocative and stimulating.