for ap lit-1

The 90's (for me) are a waterfall:
mist-shrouded and monolithic, although
intensely detailed drops flick my eyeball
occasionally when I sit stone(d/s)
tied to my time salmon-raft (plug your nose).

Stagnant memory, a black shroud (My nanny?)
flicks the flipper from the favorite hack
slash: power rangers. To O.J. and Jesse,
her pet soap opera, ev'ryday. Looking back,
probably a racist. (Oh, NEPA)

Mom and Dad come home (different house- would
I be the same?) and turn on Jennings. It's
all blowjobs and Kosovo, I laugh death
off with youthdumb blissignorance and run
to the back room. The dryer's dun disolves
in my ears as the score to my movie-
I'm the ranger now (the green one of course).

'til I see a broom, then I'm a rockstar/ninja.
I am Every/Anything for hours;
this is my stoop and I'll never get off.
'til I'm locked in by mom, her face dour
(I've still never been to Dorney).

Alas, I rush back down over the crest
to the temporary temporal pool
I swim (I never did learn the backstroke).
mind still half in that time- I would invest
in time if I had it, the only sure bet
(I'll be back to Niagara, again).