Here -
Where...second hand clipped fashion rails spill strong alcohol and stained toxic mist..
Where...branded table top is purpose placed by shaded night light entry..
Where...rules are manufactured and secrets appear down narrow gulleys..
Where...postage stamp death empties rotten wood window..
Where...gum fleeced stolen memory crumbles onto hidden platform..
Where...juiced radio plays out potent messages to scaffolded local trade..
Where...thick skinned beauty skids abruptly into gridded fence..
is the place language comes to die.
Steve Coel
