A Very Post-Modern Tweak

Strange Dream #22

A Noon Sun sets over Jamaica Plains as the F-Train rocks
its way to The Village.

I sit quietly with a large seductive bag between my knees
and survey the Burroughsian landscape.

Then I look up and check my companions:

To my left is the slave boy from The Satyricon and to my right
is Marnie from the Birds.

The woman across from me shoots a bright Diana Ross sort of smile.

The E-Train screams to a halt and I quickly sing my farewells.

RG 2015-2016

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