American Homunculus

 






Things are about to break,
it's on the tongue of the world-

we're
about to
synchronize

fomented worms
in misery
zap with certain
electricity,

mass = hypnotized:

where will a town mouse

hide

from bill-collecting
fat cat rage
of rubes & cons
across the Rubicon?

This land is our land,
from bubbling cauldron
to breeding bored
in an overflow
of nowhere to go but

up

when the lights go

down;

I'm gonna be on the
wrong side of town,

in the Great Work
and grinding heart
of abandoned souls
& toxic minds

starving for the
ground floor wisdom
from gut job goblins
agape at failed wizards----

where will they be
with their newfound
simplicity?

These precious children
out on their killing spree?

Best keep that shotgun handy,
there ain't much else
for a middle-class dandy,

there's something in the water,
there's a charge in the air,
there's a ring in the dirt...
our land is ablaze,

branded with a seal
of salted earth
through flesh & steel.

The levee's about to burst,

it's on the face of the world

we're
about to
synthesize-

rifled worms
of history
abuzz with certain

electricity.