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From the Gathering Room
of the gestalt conglomerate
Tomorrow’s Man,
an auditory creationistic
mental defective
a collective of one that occasionally shames
the artistic integrities
of those who pray
in echoes of eons over
which I say:
Nertz to the eons gabba
gone
gonzo
Stardust Bowie wrenched
in Trent
with a dash
just a splash of Vidna
Eno
the One
beats and sighs
upon which I keep
walkin’ steady
strollin’, heady
steady rock ‘n rollin’ my smile ‘cross her face she’ll
teach me to praise
the flavors that flay
between faith and a
facial
Drop to my knees to the slish
of the slip with the
mother-strong mighty
I'm the humbleproud new whoah-man on the stand
Libido incarnate this immortal Stonedriver
soaked in K23,
yes,
it’s me,
Tomorrow’s Man
remembering your dreams
I’m a poet can’t rap
worth a pea
but I have a damned fine plan
to just
keep up this pace
this delivery
this boiling point
unmanned madness this desire this need
to saturate
to permeate
to re and re and recreate
sixty-nine iterations of every line
I lick between surreal and sublime
I’ve got my grip on the trick of time
and now I’m fine
now I’m primed
to keep the slate
far
far
from clean.
of the gestalt conglomerate
Tomorrow’s Man,
an auditory creationistic
mental defective
a collective of one that occasionally shames
the artistic integrities
of those who pray
in echoes of eons over
which I say:
Nertz to the eons gabba
gone
gonzo
Stardust Bowie wrenched
in Trent
with a dash
just a splash of Vidna
Eno
the One
beats and sighs
upon which I keep
walkin’ steady
strollin’, heady
steady rock ‘n rollin’ my smile ‘cross her face she’ll
teach me to praise
the flavors that flay
between faith and a
facial
Drop to my knees to the slish
of the slip with the
mother-strong mighty
I'm the humbleproud new whoah-man on the stand
Libido incarnate this immortal Stonedriver
soaked in K23,
yes,
it’s me,
Tomorrow’s Man
remembering your dreams
I’m a poet can’t rap
worth a pea
but I have a damned fine plan
to just
keep up this pace
this delivery
this boiling point
unmanned madness this desire this need
to saturate
to permeate
to re and re and recreate
sixty-nine iterations of every line
I lick between surreal and sublime
I’ve got my grip on the trick of time
and now I’m fine
now I’m primed
to keep the slate
far
far
from clean.
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