Verse 7
Steadily and angrily Clive steered across an ascending freeway that rose shoulder to shoulder with stubby office buildings. They were masked and lusterless in the crepuscular moment of quiet that made Boston shine for a few minutes each day. Stalled traffic rushed towards him so he accelerated before tapping the brakes smoothly and quickly. He asked Uri if he could feel the power in the car before telling him that it was MC Clive McDermott that had added the energy he felt in his body. Uri smiled gently with his wolf eyes towards his new American friend. The look extended out the window and into the building behind the car where it caught the eye of an office manager, medium-sized and insecure, overlooking a sea of artists he had captured in cubicles so that they could create adve
