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The air conditioner hiccups, as the second half of Cole Berlin crosses himself-- a face deeply creased by consequence, looks to the west, a surrendering sun fractured-- broken by hundreds of stories-- tons of concrete-- mountains of glass, and the gentlest gloom. Mr. Berlin's body devours itself-- as the critics and even the diehard fans run out of time to play "remember when". The reality enters, at first no more than an annoying stomach pang, then growing, feasting, shouting, until each cell knows-- no time for the comeback. Whatever beams of sun were once banded, now dismiss themselves, as night subs in-- Mr. Berlin, closes the curtains of his mind, falls to the floor, "Sorry folks, no encore this time". A week he lay festering, no more a replica-- only a ruin. A fly in a web, rotating on a world without end, the record, it spits, skips, smolders in ditch, contaminating the soil, the virus gently purrs perfection, no hiccup, no hallucination-- only swag up for collection.
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Mar 14, 2011
Mar 14, 2011 at 7:12 PM UTC
At the Gates (The Hotel Chelsea, August 1983)
The air conditioner hiccups, as the second half of Cole Berlin crosses himself-- a face deeply creased by consequence, looks to the west, a surrendering sun fractured-- broken by hundreds of stories-- tons of concrete-- mountains of glass, and the gentlest gloom. Mr. Berlin's body devours itself-- as the critics and even the diehard fans run out of time to play "remember when". The reality enters, at first no more than an annoying stomach pang, then growing, feasting, shouting, until each cell knows-- no time for the comeback. Whatever beams of sun were once banded, now dismiss themselves, as night subs in-- Mr. Berlin, closes the curtains of his mind, falls to the floor, "Sorry folks, no encore this time". A week he lay festering, no more a replica-- only a ruin. A fly in a web, rotating on a world without end, the record, it spits, skips, smolders in ditch, contaminating the soil, the virus gently purrs perfection, no hiccup, no hallucination-- only swag up for collection.
© 2011 by J.J. Hutton
jj-hutton
Written by
American
Mar 14, 2011
Mar 14, 2011 at 7:12 PM UTC
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