Garfunkel

÷÷÷÷÷ 

Vascular scars

voices chained by whimsy

drab lead confetti

Is it falling

or are we flying?

The streets are a city’s

truth

distorted by modular

separation

 

  • No friends

  • Money gone

  • Chances nil

 

Hard urethane escape

has changed to

700c and Panaracer Closer

buzzing autos and parking lot

zombies

 

Healing a break is a trust

re-bonded

Stronger in desire

but weaker in actuality

After each step you think

this will never be the same

never to sprint up the stairs

with ease of youthful springs

Yet, look, the pedaling’s smooth

the challenge bright and clear

 

It’s unlike trying to watch that

movie with professor Garfunkel

where everything’s so drab-heavy

with lead confetti caught in storm clouds

that never truly burst, never release you

from the film’s tiresomely witless pace

Its sad ideas floating with bipolar wings

whipping up vague cinematic trauma

only to click stop and run for the pedals

çå†

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