Can you imagine it?
I can imagine only an illusion
Can you picture it?
I can picture only an elusive dream
Can you visualise it?
I can visualise only a false hope
Can you?
**I can only dream

Dolly, Dolly, Dolly
you made the headlines again
Dolly, Dolly, Dolly
what would we do
without you?
Dolly, Dolly, Dolly
the paragon of generations
the backbone of industry
Dolly, Dolly, Dolly
you paved the way
and let us build so much
trapped as we were
in the cycle of birth and death
as life begets life
but now we’ve got you
Dolly, Dolly, Dolly
progress no longer bound by life
Dolly, Dolly, Dolly
that’s the name we gave you
the mother of multitudes
Dolly, Dolly, Dolly
praise to you who killed death!
and you who outmoded birth!
Dolly, Dolly, Dolly
never able to comprehend
what we gained from your life
oh, all the familiar faces!
of all the cows in the fields
of all the pigs in their pens
of all the people on the street
the solidarity is striking!
and it’s all thanks to you
Dolly, Dolly, Dolly

Hell rages on
to the battlefield
delivering children and soldiers alike
to a furious visage
Hell rages on
to the forests
toppling and rending the verdure
to feed unending hunger
Hell rages on
to the city’s streets
where the poor writhe and wither
as they are crushed underfoot
we are content with this
content that hell stalks
and flows through the world
like a passing storm
the horrors stand at our door
and we sit and bicker
bicker
bicker
bicker
at why that actor
cheated on his wife!
or maybe the best
ways to look 18 again?
perhaps today its the fashionable
surgeries ALL the starlets are taking on.
but is there more?
what are we to do?
there is more
we can feel
we can let loose
of our steely façade
and feel
and feel to the depth our hearts
and we can burn
burn off our husk
and embrace primal fervor
and blaze brilliantly bright
above all
we can care
and care enough
to endure discomfort
and care enough
to change
and care enough
to love

the fog outside my window creates
miniature halos around each
streetlight -
mocking me with their
barometrically-induced
divinity
how the **** can a streetlight
find God when all I find
are more reasons to dislike
my fellow man?

every day, all day,
on every channel
(CNN, MSNBC, FOX, ABC, NBC, CBS)
I see hour after
hour
of so-called news about
the latest boogeyman Arab,
celebrity pregnancies,
something else that
causes cancer,
a book that will
change my life,
or a heartwrenching expose
on teen drugs use in
suburbia.

hundreds of hours of
"news"
every day.  We talk
so much and still
fail to communicate.

And all the while, the light
outside
my window reaches enlightenment
without ever
saying
a
word.

Years are mixing into decades like tasteless stew
while I sit here in the second floor of a double decker bus affiliated with universal energies that haven't been given names, and gods which haven't yet been killed over.
Sudden Spring makes me sentimental!  I daydream with my eyes shut and sunlight repeatedly washing over my face that Im racing on some enchanted eastern express en route to Benares while Lama peak Nepal is weakened with Earthquakes. Fallen monestaries still romanticized and newly forged in my mind. A few countries North, the radical religious groups are continuing the impractical path of world decay with frequent threats and televized beheadings.  We're guaranteeing ourselves a real apocalypse to save ourselves from a fake one!

Owls in suits recently drycleaned return home,  their bedroom drapes appear ethereal veils of cruelly false night-brides twirling from wind beating fiercely at the door. Next morning the
Hong Kong tram serrates the neon
acid streets where blankface ghosts are observing the hundred thousand faded shoes and wirey laces encircling the larger paths of Chinese cities like a hollow caffeinated sterile ball of yarn thrown over by the communist Cheshire cat. Bluehue sad sickness is the largest global airborne infection we all have to worry about!

Many Summers later, Debt and debt collectors are equal hell,
I'm home and showering off the society sweat and mutual bruises of some mundane corporate copy job where I copy and jab and jib and bob my head outta the sea of slate jaws and somber smiles. Everything has become a bore! The year is 2045 I'm growing gray and I feel like it, the world feels like it, too. Why did I let go of the poems? The rebel heroes in the 1960s who fought off nuclear holocaust with rhyme and meter?
We could really use that now!
Whatever happened to the soul of India budding in my veins and making me stiff with insatiable wanderlust? My prescription needs to be renewed and my passport expired two years ago. Nobody but the dead travel anymore and they aren't getting to their destination by plane. Those greenhouse gases really ****** us for good! All the aircrafts are now modern art and all my dreams are hidden in hypothetical fallout shelters crossing their fingers they survive before the generators power down on them.

Those past inspired goals faint and lifeless carried by anchors to underwater trenches. Back when my hair was down and long. Dandelions were polished in rainwater outside Vietnam Hostels encased in zipper basket backpacks on stock with incense,  teardrop ecstasy stains and cantinas filled on liquid dharma platinum with the zen seal bottlecap. Well off they go! hearts of an aspiring mahasattva sticking to the back ends of sticker stapled scooters gliding
down to the outdoor booths in Saigon.
As was expected, even the scooters were left to fizzle away in the cyclic guyas once all oil tapped out when I was 37.

Sedative Queens have tightened their authority on all of us and I'm sleepy in the wholes of days where thoughts barely catch wind off the finish line. Nobody is a firecracker anymore. Radios no longer work in closets!
I heard they used to. Radios worked anywhere.
All sound is dead. The angry ghost of an eighteen year old watches out his  kitchen window observing the approaching storm and listening to The Velvet Underground feeling like the world is gonna conflegrate to rock & rubble from the creamy ******* skies ready to drown us out.

Hepcat hideous mangled in gradual oppression diseases!
***** teen hormoned out of homosexuality, I thought we'd gotten past that ignorant belief!
Animal axed in syringe oblivion muscles tense then loose, consciousness BLANK.
Ozone overdosed on air miles and morning commutes, they said it would never happen!
Happiness hung on air, we've been told that our experiences depend on how we choose to perceive them, so maybe all this worldly wack has been my fault!
Dragons exist behind snowy beards contrast to a blood red tie sitting up on Senate! Why'd we been told they're make belief? They're burning everything down!

It feels like Summer no matter what season it is these days. Those Alaskans sure work a good tan!

All in all, years are mixing into decades like tasteless stew,

And we're running low on bowls.

Drinking my morning coffee
Well
Closer to afternoon
As last night bled over
Into the day
And out the window
The neighbors argue
Over trash in the yard

Not the kids playing
I’m not that cynical
But literal trash

And a thought
Comes to mind
As this coffee
And neurons
Collide
Of an argument
Over who lost
A lighter

Now I’m remembering
It was my pocket
With the hole

As was the trash
In the yard

We are weaved by the threads of fate.

To be vague and convinced through the lack of conviction, is our destiny.

Thrown to the depths of handshakes and pleasure.

We are swallowed by the vendetta of romance.

We are keen to distinct lust of
attachment.

We have kept the hunger for affection.

Suffice the thirst for life, only to find the fate of tomorrow.

Bound to the stages of conditions.

And you are here,
Beautiful and ******.