Post-modern chaos
dirty ecstasy rave
quantum hypnotic inclusive star matter
latticework of acid jazz
funk before it became too dangerous
threshold-testing choral boom arpeggios
ligatures of ultra-radio silence
baby dolls make breaths,
mole fifes are crying
Himalayan crystal cymbals crash to
contraband Egyptian skins and scales
artificial aboriginal drums
black vinyl and moog synthesizers
and quadraphonic stereo sound
in pretty post-pubescent voices
like junkyard debutantes
a Pandora's box of pop turns
as a monkey grinds and squeezes them
echoing like tongueless monks,
hearts and daggers juggled in gelatin
by rhythmic gymnasts
on trampolines
then exquisite fungus
and a rattlesnake gourd
oceans through a sacred organ pipe,
trash pail lids as tins a popping
while copper smelters hum triumphant
a violet pyramid of light,
the sound waves bounce the ruined rafters
of factories like medieval ghost cathedrals
everyone makes his own journey alone
to be one
we must be spirits
but first
we must be robots
