notes from the bunker

the Me-mac Mars man sings
electric teardrops raining
melting bicycle sundays
on the black top
beat back reload
starved jonesing for hemlock memories
socratic martydom
skit skat cat always howling at
the stillborn mood
the forgotten
moon.

Love is divine madness the Mars man sings
smokey lusty jazz club thing
she's giving him those chest pop eyes
the girl
abject potentiality
as he verbalizes the soul

Going 95 on Hwy 95
the drop top's red as pain
heading to Mexico the long way
he's 9 days out on the world tree
All this insanity is just conceptual vanity
he thinks
the drop top moves but he is still
he is movement

Take your Icarian wings
FLY!
let the car crash into the intellectual spikestrip
the barricade of mundacity
as burning metal and an updraft
carries the Me-mac Mars man
Up
UP
and
AWAY!

gone like freedom
out of sight
of this world
Far away from us
we Hungry ghosts in the virtual world
we shamblers
who've forgotten how to dance.