Days of Future Past

You don't need to
have read Proust,
Remembrance of Things
Past, to have all
inclusive memories
as I do and my madeleine
are all aural ones,
unscented songs from
the 60's and like
I'd be sitting in
this cafeteria, doing
a chef's salad for
lunch and I'd hear
this canned Musak,
Sounds of Silence
and it will bring me
all the way back to
NYC between basic
and The Tour, passing
out drunk on a subway
platform, stupefied by
a summer's bake of human
vomit and piss, my neck
bent by a weight of
last rounds for the long
and winding road that leads
from nowhere to here,
the concrete platform
I lie on shaking out
of control as the express
milk train to hell bypasses
my stop at full speed:
the grit and the dirt,
dried blood and bile in
my throat, fear sweats
and incontinent piss,
scuttling rats and monster
rats, all the details
of a living dt's flash
forwarding my life,
broadcasting the unmistakable
message, the hardest of Facts:
this is the Future now