PERMANENT MOSAIC

I’ve been down in the downtown reality,
jiving to jazz, pouncing on every beat,
singing along with the smog
and the pop
of faraway champagne bottles.
I am
living crucified to the billboard,
repeating, repeating
the lingo of the cats on my right,
while a black mambo man inquires
whether this was a crime scene,
constricting, kneading, wringing,
the endless love out of me.