just the fashion October 20, 1990 Burnaby, B.C. Sieving out the gold from one more welter of events; the jumble of cement, paint, vinyl, latex, filler-gun a high-pitched snarling skillsaw fine dust, screw bits on the cordless drill, each 4 by 8 of composition-wood weighs eighty pounds gets cut to line between two shopping carts across the narrow space behind Justica fashions, formerly Taboo, some kind of smutty joke-shop, bankrupt six months back . . . what cost to change the colours, shapes and angles of intense light? many shades of pale blue; pastel up to sea-green mirrors placed just so . . . the clothing of the moment, bums displayed more carefully than breasts this year just watching lovely bodies walking, counting hours in a small black book one arm of the shopping mall has got me by the throat; that leather, billfold-slick, umbilicus . . . a grid-locked pattern swallowing its pride no matter what breaks down between the two of us I'm still prepared to let my fingers go on talking.
|The East Village Poetry Web