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BrooklynThe ghosts of ages pastClash with silent regressionExisting concurrently on separate wavelengthsA contracting dualistic natureThat both defines and unravels herFùtbol and reggaetónReign now on Sandy's lotThe latter a name with no meaningАптека and borshchIn the shadow of the QConverted by the kabob, a slowly dying breed86th Street and Avenue UCannot stand in the face of human wavesAy! Oh! FugheddabouditThe 50's flight to Lawn GuylandLeft Bed-Sty, Flatbush, Crown Heights, and othersWith any set identity, in and of itself a badge of multiculturalismYet, as the world changes, and she along with itThe incorporeal specters of the zeitgeist of yesterdayGo about their business dutifully as everThough two types of bums may be in BrooklynA person may only see one
The Illusion of LifeLife is a carcinogenEvery moment leading towards oblivionDown the road leading to death we headA cancer of tales and places, people and thingsGrowing on the SelfRemove the tumorRemove the cancerRemove the diseaseRelease the Self.When we lose ourselves, we gain the SelfThrough the Self, we truly becomeFinally begot, we areAnd only then can we be