The Night Market came to Detroit on May 12th,
“where trucks transform into interactive dioramas,
theaters for sublime & bizarre entertainments”.

Lost Horizon Night Market by SmR

The Trucks start out from their individual staging areas.
They have been worked day and night to realize a vision.
The clatter of the diesels maneuvered by rank amateurs who
feel silly or at least strange
sitting on top of this too big vehicle that rocks and sways
over curbs not avoided.

All trucks rolling across the mean streets of Detroit to the place chosen.
This place without a house in sight,
This place that was barren this morning,
now warmed at the center with an illegal bonfire.

Freight trains rumble by occasionally –
one giving us a few extra whonnnk whonnnks as it passes by.
I wonder if the engineer can see
inside the truck
filled with cloud structures.
The one where we poke organ tones
out of the clouds with our lasers
like goosing a pig to squeal.
Or the other truck that is bursting with cheers and groans
as one of the autonomous fighting robots battles to its death.
Or the juke box truck where Grace with the band
swing into action with New Orleans Dixieland jazz as a patron slots a coin
marked with the song of choice.

I meet a large imposing (little bit scary) guy.
He looks at me near the entrance to the noise rock light show truck.
The truck with laser beam bejeweled monster faced idol
at the back of this science fiction church place.
I brace for an confrontation but instead
he smiles and gushes how cool – this truck,
the one he drives every day,
hauling shit from one end of the city to the other – is transformed.
An alchemy of this community that makes beauty, gifts it, and then will evaporate into the night again.

Toward the end of the night
a Hamtramck artist tells us about his studio.
He passes on information
regarding other art events around town.
The community communicates – the links are made.
Souls and ideas are knitted together
into the new structure that is rising up from
the now famous Detroit ruins.
Simmer