The Mechanics Of Being Human

pre-recording sidewalks resemble the aftermath of a cluster bomb attack there’s a heat on the street, Burger King, White Castle the stench of cheap meat, subterrain men and woman performing their everyday rituals leave no trace of their whereabouts  as they traverse in-between  the less than exuberant ‘down n outs’, they’re all daytime spectres and they’ve  clearly mastered their maneuverers, local junkies gloat about the price of dope, “don’t stray too far from the dust lounge”,  in this neighbourhood, or there abouts a true Englishman is rarely seen, you want a day trip? avoid all transport to Cabrini-Green, jetlag drags, I’m told I’ve got to walk with  a local swagger, I’m so tired and wired my stride turns to a stagger, Miller light isn’t going to prop me up I need something harder, the people that fall in and out  of my life will never comprehend  just how long it took to get here, it isn’t some  ‘cheap day return’ or an excuse to crack open ...