Namibian Sand

I buzzed under white lights,
observing in the meta-present:

dizzying swirls of cruel and senseless numerical humiliation
the timid call for allegiance from a rejected and battered flag,
comicstrip posters that kick the feet out from under the already confused;

and decided

to take out the chap stick
that been in my backpack for six months -
Only to see
find grains of reddish san
melted into it's vanilla base,
screaming for me to remember,
that I've seen the world.