From The Lab

The Spirit of Detroit?

"Blue-collar," "9-to-5," "Work hard, play hard,"
Exhausted, played out phrases, when it comes to
Detroit. Dangerous, desolate, deadly,
Adjectives all too commonly heard,
When it comes to Detroit.
Judge not the inner workings as an outsider;
Accept but your small slice of the spectrum,
Interpret a single experience at face value,
Nothing more.
Every facet reflects
A street corner, a moment, a dinner table's conversation;
The Life, The Death, The Scene.

The Spirit of Detroit?
The so-called spirit is potential;
It is little more than remainders,
Reminders, ghost like traces of history.
A city is many things, a collection
Of current trends, accomplishments, and the mistakes
Illuminated through hindsight's overbearing glow.
A city is individual, accompanied within the collective,
And subject to the same ups and downs an individual experiences.

A city divided against itself can stand,
Though only for a moment,
Solid foundations of character can be reduced in time,
Eroded into shaky blueprints and
Crumbled plinths. Dependency on the past
Is an antique dependency,
A thrown away idea,
Buried beneath the oily gearshifts, tires
Spent metal, rag, and glass of memory's junkyard.
Self made tough times are tough times
Nonetheless.

The needs of the few outweigh the many,
In this diluted, wolf-eat-dog trap/mentality/lifestyle.
Recreating. Thriving in the beginning
Where there was light
And dark. And passion;
Detroit is passion.
Passionate about Lions and Tigers and Wings,
Passionate about music and culture and fashion,
Passion which leads to love and hate. Life and death.
Light and Dark.
Even the strongest, brightest community hides a shadow in the back.
But a truth here is not twisted, as in other places,
It is revealed. Spotlight on the shadows,
Revealing the nasty bits that thrive within.
Knowing where not to step simplifies
An already difficult journey.