Oh --- How Sad!
This poor lost soul in "My Own Private Idaho."
A mishap, flung onto the burning asphalt
by fucked-up circumstances beyond his control.
His past a mystery, his present ---a world of bobbing heads and flashing bills,
strong arms and floating lamps....
No potential future of which to speak.
Only sleep --- deep and disturbing,
robbing him of those precious moments
called youth ---
Which indeed were already stolenby insignificant, cold, and uncaring perverts.
Poor Little Dutch Boy in your cleaning togs!
Where will you be twenty years from now?
Your Own Private Idaho?
Or will you remain, forever locked, in your Portland cell?
5 August 1992