recovering slowly, a torso fell
from a beat up truck by a rural motel.
the manager seen how the truck bed bounced
while dust flew up with a rolling sound.
voices appear from the staff outside
in bulbous text in a western style
his mannequin neck spun to turn his face
the bars spills drunks out frame by frame
girls pushed girls side to side
to hear a suction sound as limbs relign
the crowd just seemed to multiply
they hear his plastic jaw as the news drops hard:
«your retro career melted»
they couldn’t have agreed with the manniquin less
they didn’t understand what the manniquin meant
the sound of a barrelled gun held to the back
some plastic clicks as the shell parts pass.
fleshtone shards fly by wild
they fill a plastic bag with the parts inside
the bag got dumped, a town nearby
they reassembled fast as his voice dropped hard:
«your retro career melted»