summer fireworks, house party by the tracks, churning into sunday night. what will it sound like when the obamachron opens? will it be louder? i haven't gotten used to the pulsating music from the train track embankment, shaking the remaining trees, vibrating the birds' air-filled bones and muffling their song. we don't know what it'll sound like when his tower's built, but i already can hear the throbbing echoes bouncing off the future stone walls of the amplified obamachron memorial park.

the obamachron memorial park. it's real summer now—fireworks, and the sunday house party by the tracks goes all day long into the night. i wonder what it will sound like when the obamachron opens. will it be louder? maybe it will be an endless party. it is said you can get used to anything. uncle eddie lived near the end of the runway by the airport and claimed he didn't hear the planes anymore. but that was uncle eddie—not the sensitive kind. i still haven't got used to the pulsating house music emanating from the train track embankment, shaking the remaining trees, vibrating the birds' air-filled bones and muffling their song. well we won't know what it will sound like til his tower's built. i imagine the throbbing echoes bouncing off the future stone walls of the obamachron.