1995 Frame of Mind Part 2 (Booty Clasping)

Home-grown servants mix with drop-off laundry like colored stockings. Chosen people raising steel pyramids on the incline of a spine, following white picket drones leading caravans of streaming muslin along summer dream horizons of hidden suburb pensions.

Commerce percolates what caffeinated city isms drain. A cobblestone plugs the manhole mouth to aged dumping ground; overflowing by now it spews invisible gases thru avenues, up Park, past millionaire mile, flaring the nostrils of skeletal descendants clasping at booty chests. Debris sweeps inland landing on uptown window sills with the strength of a rolling blackout, freezing the frames of fifty-two million unemployable bodies.

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