aTOMIC.rAPTURE

The word is out. IT’S A MELTDOWN! Motorists gorge the highway in one massive metal tumor. Families stranded in overheated cars stare at graffiti scrawled on overpass walls by enlightened skateboarders. RUSH HOUR EVACUATION! The gravity of the words hits like microscopic dirt clods exploding in the frontal lobes of the brain: DUH! DUH! DUH!

Meanwhile the skateboarders break out of jails, factories, welfare motels and Park Avenue apartments. They join together in the street and blaze across the industrial jungle like packs of wolves. Skateboard matadors, masters of the supple art: pitting charging bull for flick of sword and gnarly hill for weaving board.

They exit the meltdown upside-down in underground sewer pipes and cruise the streets at night like Mexican lowriders under huge halogen street lights that burn the retina like a cigarette. They skate around and shout back to the traffic like harpies: DUH! DUH! DUH!

Easily they beat the heat and the G, their boards finally decomposing into pure energy as their individual life forces blur and become one bright white streaking light of animal aggression. Uninhibited by time and space, like a syringe socked right through the optic nerve they skate and ollie into outer space directly into the nearest black hole, to be absorbed by the universal unconscious.

by
t.heoDORE.j.rICHTER
.pERFORMANCE.aRTIST
Thank you for reading this, I hope you got to trip. PEACE!

by TJ Richter

© July 1988 Theodore J. Richter