small chunk of black

imagine your way in
to summer '77 nyc
when the city goes
mad from bankruptcy
garbage piled high
son of sam on the hunt

go one imagine it
as you step off
the train in
to what you might
think is the lost world
found again just for you

one could dream, right
because your 10 years old
chump and the toughest thing
you have is a switchblade comb
bought in a joke shop
strum your lyre boy

odysseus is laughing to the gods
you think you're
the star of an exploitation movie
played at half speed
on a stained screen at the deuce
the soundtrack recorded on mars