Continuing to work with P.B. Warrington, I found that a street corner scene could have even more power than I’d bargained for at the time of capture. The underlying feeling of this moment is brilliantly captured in P.B.W’s poetry. I’ve provided some underscoring to fit the mood. The text is below.
Human carpet
Fibers rushing randomly
Building charge
Sparking when touched
Living conveyor belt
Through chaos
Each thread convinced
Of need and want
By the motion
By the sudden discharge
Sane in their own way
Few just bad
Most just hearing an internal
Squeaking pitched chorus
Droning on about meaning
No one seeing
Watching where headed
Going along enraptured
By flickering devices in their hands
Certain of a world
Still impervious
To their existence
From the first great mistake
To this latest one
All the pain gained
Dealt in reply
This open wall-less
Boundary channel
Carried behind each look
Some faces looking back
Only one from above
Seeing through the haze
Listening through the din
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