Back To The Future Poem by Leo Yankevich

Let us go to the station
to marvel at the marble
sprayed with graffiti.

Let us take a ghost train,
jump cargos to Chicago,
with shiny fin-tailed cars.

Let us forget the needles
on the spent floor, rent
the squatters never paid.

Let us wave to the girl,
blonde, grinning on her Schwinn,
in Wonder Bread Indiana.

Let us place our right hands
on our hearts: the smell of tar
will mock our pledge with drums,

with monkey taps and funk
as metrosexuals
greet us with wilted flowers.