(we are) wall ball material

naked like ankles
bit by geese
scraped on thorns
bloodshot

our eyes

behind caked makeup an
low-grade petroleum
products
our scars

salvage yards

smoke trails
pic'n'pull
highways
bits of plastic
bits of plaster

bits of glass

we are
wall ball material
circa 1973

our water
steady boiling
ona stove
poached eggs

double-breasted
back-stabbings
on front street

the boardwalk vanishes 

in the fog
in the cloud

gas consumption
tele vacation
the coffee
sure is bitter
around here

for now
you made a friend
i made a friend
my gosh

you can do that
you see
young runaway
you did

Journal #05.07.15

Touch became a rare and valuable find in a market consisting mostly of audio-visual sensation. A new trend took place, whereby bodies were lying on the ground. Many people left the city for an hour or a lifetime, in order to find a field to borrow or to buy, in order to be able to finish breakfast and coffee and online communications, and head out of the house, off the bottom step, past where the pavement ends, into the center of said field, and dropping oneself first on to one's knees, then back on to one's back or forward even on to one's belly, with or without clothing, to feel the touch of the earth and all the organic matter therein and thereunder. Sun bathing was another form of intimate reception, but no longer viable due to melanomas. Human touch was another form of intimacy, but quite unlikely due to unfavorable market conditions, legalities and general phobic disinclinations. This sorta experience was almost miraculous in the year 2059. Metrosexuals would stop and circle and glom in an insatiable crowd. Certainly not within reasonable expectations. Anyone who cried out about lacking this sorta intimacy, would be ridiculed for sure. Like walking down the street expecting someone to hand you cash money without asking. They would wonder aloud what planet are you from? To which you might respond, Earth, circa 1973? After which, disheartened and alone, you slagged on back to your field of glory, removed your polyurethane skin, and dove headlong into the irrigated mud, hoping to drown. Good news. The exfoliating powers could be exponential.