January 13, 2011
By riefny BRONZE, Sunnyside, New York
riefny BRONZE, Sunnyside, New York
4 articles 0 photos 0 comments

Favorite Quote:
"If the doors of perception were cleansed every thing would appear to man as it is, infinite." - William Blake

Three P.M. summer time, not the ten on ten
Alleyway game, garbage can pass and shot between Chico’s bike and that
Neon beer window pane.

Click-Clack Click-Clack

Not the corner store, honey bun Shoplift
Diet Coke down the Jeans tucked into pretty much all purpose Adidas kicks.
No one buys diet coke anyways.

Click-Clack Click-Clack

Cowardice never blankets this New World Expressionist.
Wait for an empty car at Ditmars,
Thought and dream warped dripping ink murals
Devour the stainless steel beasts by 39th.

Click-Clack Click-Clack

Untamed lions reign metal store gates,
Strands of regal mane touch and make golden miles of rusted industrial surface.
West 188th grocery waits for its conquest by a new King of the safari.

Click-Clack Click-Clack

Sweaty wife-beaters and sticky gray fingers shake,
Split second fence hops and Hundred meter dashes
stir in the cranium pot of Wednesday’s algebra, Friday’s second date, Hollywood Samurai and
...why are these kicks suddenly plastered to the ground?

Click-Clack Click-Clack

Two protein pumped interrogators confront the freedom writers of
Spanish class desk tops and coat hanger closets.
Brillo pads and a year-long lunch ban are theses “criminals’” prison sentence.


To “Finest” freedom marauder seven zero eight nine
This DaVinci of fifteen is only worth forty bills and a tricep straining cuff,
A silver and green fill-in with a black outline was today’s Mona Lisa interrupted.


A wintry breeze consumes
The back seat of the phantom white and frozen blue
Four wheeled Diesel and Innovation gulper
Sweat dribbles down
An abnormally straight spine, but not a product of summertime heat.
Fear commands
Two waterfalls
Down brittle cheeks.
Outside, the world is Good.

Human mind
And body
Are two different species.
The sloth can never follow the lead of the hummingbird.

If only I’d thrown that can away.

The author's comments:
A time when I experimented with graffiti.

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