AARON MILLADO
AyAyRonM
A LITTLE SPARK OF INSANITY A DAY,
IS QUITE HEALTHY, DESPITE WHAT THE DOCTORS SAY
You ever watch the clouds pass by, not like sheep, like how everyone else sees them, but as pieces of crumpled paper, tumbling like tumbleweeds at a western, and realize that every molecule of that puffy marshmallow in the blue is a day, or a word, condensed in such a miraculous of a form? Think of this book as a cloud, segmented into months, and weeks, and days, and words all culminating in a big puffy cloud, waiting 'til the clock strikes noon before letting down its cleansing rain.
This is Aaron's Second Book of Poetry
by Aaron Nell Millado
With each improvised step
planted
on the trembling gravel
one discovers the energy of the city.
Jackhammers
like woodpeckers
drumming to the harmony
of honking horns and flashing letters.
Caution!
This is no place for
no casual observer—
hiding behind a dr dre hard hat
Trying to drown out
the psychedelic inducing
xylophonic chimes
of sirens and small businesses.
This is no place for
no passive traveler—
who dares not bask in
the spontaneity that lurks
beyond that cemented
reclusive exterior
falsely advertising with neon lights
of an ‘'energetic’’ façade.
This is no place
for no stiff tin soldier—
greeting faded faces
with the same blank smile
fabricated with
Steve Jobs’s cursed
gift to mankind, bending
to what’s left of one’s free will.
Photo by Wally Santana, January 11, 1996
No—This is a place
where people create
symphony from cacophony
with the souls of their striding feet
This is a place
where graffiti is modern art;
fast food is fine dining;
And street performers are Broadway stars.
So get up!
Bop; to the lights,
to the sound
to the new life that you have found
And chill! ‘Cause
Methodical machines
make lousy
human beings.