The lightning forks forth
Shoots Up north
Like spindly shafts in
Perfect formation.
Strange synchronization
In Martian formalization--
Grasped in nightmarish,
Garish mitts of particular
Deviant sensations...

Little Alice enters her Wonderland,
Not by the rabbit’s hole--
Rather a guillotine’s hand...
Her Wonderland;
This dreamscape quicksand--
With snakes writhing; convulsing  on lurid
Inferno bandstands,
Pushing the limits of your understand--
With preposterous and impossible socks;
Technically causing bruising on acid brains.

Meanwhile The Martian walks the streets
Of the Big Apple in
A deep diver’s suit,
Picking along his way, low hanging and
Chromium laden passion fruit...

And Alice, she like what she sees.
She likes the alien’s helicopter breeze--
She’s all about melting clocks draped upon
Bristlecone Pine trees--
And she’s going to fly into the mouth of the
Martian’s galactic lion, and **** on it’s liver.

Man I have no time,
for slow minds,
so I stay in my own mind,
while they show crime,

to sew paranoia,
and lessen our faith in fellow Man,
Lennon wanted to give peace a chance,
but the Shadow Hand had other plans,

oh the humanity of our humanity,
full steam ahead even though we don’t know where we’re goin’,
it’s all awkward whether on stage with the spotlight ablaze,
or in the bandstands with a bag of popcorn and a program,

and I’m anxious as heck and want to get out ASAP,
but she’s got her eye on my and wants us to slow dance,
and I don’t want to but can’t think of an excuse not to,
because I’ve got no plans and it feels so good this bad romance,

so I step forward take her hand and take a chance,
nothing else left to do but pick out a spot with a good view,
to watch the fireworks from our collective apocalypse,
as the night sky lights up and we start to dance as if on queen,

because if all we’ve got is lemons,
then baby we’re making lemonade,
and if all we’ve got is each other,
then baby we’re making love until a new day is made,

as they watch in awe,
thoroughly entertained,
keeping up with the gossip,
but not with the current pace of our mental state,

and that’s why man I have no time,
for slow minds,
and why I stay in my own mind,
while they show crime,

to sew paranoia,
and lessen our faith in fellow Man,
Lennon wanted to give peace a chance,
but the Shadow Hand had other plans…

∆ LaLux ∆

Venice, CA.
October 8th, 2018

Yesterday the weather changed
and what it changed into,
I can not say.
It was something words can not describe.

We will need a new alphabet.

There will be a public debate
held around bandstands,
or in libraries after hours,
when the school kids and the homeless
have vacated.

Professors and purveyors of
taste and trends
will argue their views on live TV.

The polemicists will debate,
until definitions are forged,
and when new words are created,
old meanings will be cast
asunder and forgotten.

A phone poll,
followed by a referendum
will give the public a voice

but once there is a consensus
private investors will be invited to
table bids to sponsor the new vowels.