Byline: Wallpaper Rage

Buford Youthward

In due time, in good time old years shed like weeklong news. Resolutions and revolutions occur with little help from clocks and calendars.

Apologies on my end for not getting up when I'm all caught up with strumming loud guitars in downtown bars. It has its thrill but there's little romance in dragging musical equipment up flights of stairs.

Juxtaposing sound, image, truth and expectation. I miss, reminisce, and always liked television when it dealt with desires not reality. Trying to costume the fact that fantasy isn't the business of media.

Some villains are content to reinvent the familiar and modern. Borrowing institutional identities for great mistreatment is cute exercise. I guess you got to do the reps to get the rep.

Supposing that there is something to symbols of official culture constituting a second alphabet, a vocabulary of visuals with instinctive recognition. Does that count for anything? Mixing forms with new messages, hot graff writers too often bank on ways this second alphabet is internalized by the collective psyche of audiences.

Information for the wallpaper age. Four o'clock junkies jump like mad in stereo for four blocks. Times steady. Measured in meters with mixed melodies only hot graff writers can know.

Cardboard cutout is my favorite form of leadership. I phone in my allegiance and leave hip heads hanging. I continue to cast my vote for more good times.

High lonesome lullabies make great Americana high. At the touch of love everyone becomes a poet, or so says Plato. Next year I promise to show up, sound off love and send signals with greater satellite significance.

In the meantime, I resolve to revolve and call out counterfeiters caught trying to catch my calendar time.

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