Monday, October 20, 2014

6016. TITLE THIS SEQUENCE (1966)

TITLE THIS SEQUENCE
Sitting on a train with the landscape spinning by;
moonscape, dreamscape, winning. A small wreath
of smoke, something outside, reminds me of a
factory of old. The guy next to me, in my memory,
is damning himself with a cigarette. The small
silver case he holds holds ten.
-
There's nothing to be done. I have to breath.
Whatever happens after this can be his funeral  -
so they say, in 1965, that smoking kills. Lung
cancer, emphysema  -  old those big post-Kennedy
words. What Lee Harvey Oswald started. The
real New World was coming.
-
I sat back and was reading 'The National Observer'.
It was a weekly back then  -  some Liberal funk paper
out of DC. All fun and games, how to solve the world,
end poverty, quest the debt, reach the moon, save the
blacks. Medger Evers. Those three guys from New York,
Chaney, Goodman and Schwerner. Like yesterday,
man, like yesterday.
-
When bowling was cool. When the Beatles were breaking,
a new surge with all those fey British groups. When Esquire
ran Dylan on the cover  -  all that crap. 'Writes like a poet,
sings like a rebel'. Pure frozen-fuck hype. When bowling,
yeah, bowling, was cool.

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