clothing lines completely disappeared
into the distant memory of young minds
early late 1990’s minds
in google search you nary appear
it’s like you didn’t even exist
it’s as if the spirit that created the fabrics
and applied colors
and countless hours of thinking of names
and upstarting the business with heart and soul and love
a figment of my fucking imagination
and what does that mean for me?
an underground warrior who solemnly attended
the church of house looking for an instant fix?
trying desperately to understand an outdated god
while simultaneously believing that there was something bigger?
what does this mean that
in another escapist mode
can’t find you?
does this mean that I, myself, do not
did not exist
that my presence in these dark caves was but a dream
a lonely, subterranean delusion
a vile transformation
a now commercial, capitalist shore…?