I was a sinful American w/top-spin

It all gets hyper-real
everything moves in slow
motion
                              you are aware of the tremor
of each molecule
                  in yr body but
                              it could be someone else

a name falling from you

                              a piece of blue thread

                  You can remember how it sounds
                              sewn w/rain & concrete

so we pretend there’s more than this
                  wherever we might have left it
laid down among whispers
                              arcing the elegiac debris
                  reduced to alcoholic bravado
on the next to last day
beneath the soft
smog-filtered light