Scrap Metal Furniture

[Wjames]

I have been struggling through this and I can't quite figure it out all over.

There are parts I quite like but somehow it's missing some flow;  the beginning line is awesome, a secret patio!, but then somehow the rhythm seems to fail.  I might be off myself, though.  I would consider more along the lines of starting with Sanagans Meat locker...

Sanagans Meat Locker hid a secret patio that smelt of freshly cut pine


The rest is a nice set of images I don't understand but enjoy.  It gives me a feeling I get similar to trying to understand Wallace Stevens poetry.

However by the conclusion, I do wonder overall, "But what of it?"

This was something of a Burroughs "cut-up" style poem, but I thought about what phrases would go where. There was a magazine on my parents coffee shop which I thought had some incredibly ridiculous prose pieces highlighting various stores in and around Toronto. 

This poem was basically an attack on the magazine, but it made me smile so I decided I might as well work on it a little further to see if something more could come of it. I just used some of the phrases that made me chuckle at their pomposity, and added-in only filler words and phrases like "the", and "across the street". 

I'm not sure if this poem can transmit anything to anyone else, but there's something about it I enjoy.