Slap Bracelet

The heavy metal rail welded together downslides into the framework of the lineup. Speed metal is overlaid by shredding leads like it was their last day at ‘Ghetto Park’. This street view is seldomly reviewed. Slayers leave their lairs. Skateboard lifers thrash the skatepark like chain saws chewing through cords of wood. Chipper teeth spark like trucks grinding metal. An unsettled stance until the trick is perfected. Determined at a glance. A ripper returns to the lineup. Pursuing advanced levels happens even if there is weeping and gnashing of teeth. Under the law trespassers will be cited for the violation of landing grace between the dark stage of twilight and an hour before dawn. If the park is closed the hardwood slappers will be slapped with a hefty fine. A minor debt for a minor staged on interval legs of minimum wage. The type of ticket easily written and given to a goofy riders by righty park rangers.

The map view of ‘Ghetto Park’ is a green slap bracelet. Congregating rail riders put it on for the voyage. Admission for tough amusement. Fusion of charismatic characters bruised by the massive miasma. Pressed between Pine and Pacific; there’s only few places left to go. The last place you’d go to on the bus or train, but that will switch like a stance. Transient transitions from one surface to another make contact with otherworldly elements. The market of social services were planted here and sprinkled with pellet policies of containment. A park full of fertilized hobos. Like Jacaranda blooms there is sticky joy here, but the depth of insight does not become known by those who do not go. There are no exceptions to their rules. Exceptional living belongs to the cross fools who are spectacles in the universe.