by Dan Raphael
Ruminians languid in the city, observant, spicy,
then theyre gone from the corners, never in a car,
kneeling or bowing without ending knee or back always aflex
Ramenians low center of quantum gravity, quantum efficiency,
stretching across the street like a self-erasing fax machine.
emergency envelopes, color coded circumstance,
get real comfortable in just 3 minutes
Roomienians worshipping entropy, the momentarily euclidean,
pick a line and rail it, make a line that eats the carpeting.
you never know when the street outside might hemorrhage us
to a new neighborhood, where so many walk & bicycle parkings a snap
Rum&cokians know every song sounds the same at a different sped & accent,
cornering like a bobsled, sitting for three, absorbing like a storm front,
brown like blood, like an industrial sunset, like the inner heat
this rose whiteness cant contain
Remainians see the density, 7 bottles in a six pack,
stretch fibers donâ€™t apply to my sense of bounds.
less than 2% in my size, I keep opening doors til my head doesnâ€™t hit
the stairs above my head, the curtains figuring how to mount me.
no meal starts fresh, no day I havent had before