Amid the verbose magicians Seeking kinships And sailing deep into their arduous mists Watching them peddle their afternoon To a handful of smiling children holding their breath Amazed in gentle body trick
The older men of age Leaning deep into their creased chins Stroking the grizzled fat Blinding light of soul Staring down the barrel of life Striking the enemy one last time And yet smiling sober, Met of match, taking care of their kids.
Then there's the cold-clocked dudes On the phone pushing buttons In a button-up raglan Lost indistinct the promised land The golden shores swept away by inconvenient time Left shopping in an auto mall "Won't you look at the time?" 7.07 APR Boy what a steal! And Steve maddened and screamed As the lines blurred instinctual between opposing teams And the oven dinged a great alabaster slant Leaning towards the new millenitants
Rise up! ***** the wheel Turn the axel from pistons To alkaline metal And doubt with great monumental Quality That the machine borders all And we cannot retreat
And while I sift bouyantly between the waves Searching the puzzle piece within the molecules Reconnecting with the things And representing dreams on a 66 hertz screen I call rather failing Towards a black rocked shore Towards the sweet Dorigen Of my dreams Finding an integral of time And space
And calculating the intangible ***** Of my desmise With the imaginary constiutent Of that lighted mind.