yellow man fever

i was born jaundiced...yellow as the most beautiful, pure, and ripened dandelion...drinking dandelion wine...drinking from the open sewers of eternity...breathing on the iron lung of the basement...of the iron clad contracts of the damned...sweating out the memories of last night...drowning in the dewey morning...it has almost been thirty years to the day...and i can't believe i am here...still to enjoy the evening, still to curse the day...we all suffer silent, pretending, and believing in the twilight's soft embrace...what to say, on a night in jersey, far from the city's indifference...far from last year's helplessness...rolling onwards...counting the mile markers, the infinite rails, the lost highway...