Nostalgia
By Thomas Luhrmann
Well–defined pockets of chaos
litter an otherwise uncluttered landscape
and as it recedes the mindless roar of the alien system
is beginning to resemble
an ultraviolet sea fan far more than a silver broach,
a toothpick or some unrepentant swan
Like the collision of two extraordinarily different worlds
that have little in common but a passion for secrecy
we stand before each other naked and unashamed
and for the umpteenth time
the simplicity of the calliope on the ice cream van
takes us back to a more innocent age
when hamburgers frying on a charcoal grill
would partially restore the borderline psychotics
and conditions favoring the algae’s sudden efflorescence
remained a stupefying mystery