Trendmasters, 1991

Expressionistic vignette

I dust the neglected vinyl body,

Discolored by years of sun.

Dead embellished eyes penetrate mine

The way they did in my youth. . .

Then rife with silliness and life.

'Some of your friends are gone,'

I speak to impractical plastic ears...

'Lost in the changes that make up time;

'Strewn across the chaos of many a minute

'As they rain into the stream of years.'

My hand runs along its dorsal row of plates-

Some missing, some cracked-

And those aging eyes stare back at me still,

Welling up with memories,

Along with a damning tear.