Plywood and Plastic


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		PLYWOOD AND PLASTIC by Mark Palermo Survivor- that's me of empty days and drunken Saturday nights in suburban citadels of conspicuous consumption. I am still standing among the quiet desperation among dead and wounded amidst the plywood and plastic sober behind the wheel of oblivion and rebirth.						Mortifying my flesh, I have worn memory like a hair shirt. In my descent I have searched in vain for connections Scrubbed and powdered by day, reptilian by night. I long for union, for Godly wisdom and redemption. I pray for the souls of the dead buried under forsythia and asphalt and manicured lawns.