geometry and fire burned again and again
now. late night. in black legacy owned tuxedo with white formal crisp purchased from the Orthodox in Oak Park glossy loafers from amazon the day before walked downtown spoke streets of new Detroit with my daughter shuffling back after surveying the disintegration of the Detroit auto show she did well in heels carrying it off reminders of a decade when we walked for college football causing blisters and slow shuffle pain where she voiced no complaint she wants nothing more than to be back in the car on the way home to Ferndale now new Detroit she looked beautiful, mature, something new not known to me in a gaze instantly elegant, classy, and pulling off an orange gown signifiers of Nepalese Buddhist monks, 1960s burlap tapestries and 76 orange ball gas station signs that sprinkled i-75 into 1980s Ohio the haunting of the French colonization the centuries of an Indigenous layout of the main streets from wampum paths conquered by steel and plow mowed down for the map spokes of Paris covered over by Cobo geometry and fire burned again and again floods of Detroit river importing and exporting guns and butter for the dawn of world wars the blueprints to take over and liberate paris and cascade and create the glory of a 57 Chevy workers of the World had bled on the streets we walked that night followed by a blind pig rebellion Detroit on the verge of rekindling the incandescence of a purple Parisian art deco fairy fantasy in my tux bowing while the red curtain Detroit auto show fades to black for Las Vegas laser lights and mathematical markets of Beijing the arsenal of democracy in the rearview back to Ferndale
76 orange ball gas station signs that sprinkled i-75 into 1980s Ohio. Nice work.