Prolific Down at the Falls

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Black and white images stream across yesterday…at today’s falls.

Profiles of cremated plots of Jiffy Pop.

And, with a splash, ‘not now’.

All in an instant, all in the wordy watered down words.

Thus, I ponder, why are these memories your’s to take?

Like a broken toilet handle…refusing to flush.

There is nothing like the taste of being…sour.

On this, the half past hour.

An, ‘I see you…’ on random country stores.

Black and white transformed into the derelict poor.

Prolific Falls…where do we go.

Prolific Falls, meant to be searched when solo.

When I had been young,

I learned to swim with a push.

When I had been young,

I learned to drive in a jam.

Sink and swim and hold on tight.

Tart and tangy memories in black and white.