NOMADS CONTROLLING THE NEW UTOPIA

And plain blue murder follows deceit against the crankshaft
in psychedelic colors, rigged organism dedicated to squalor,
checked for backlash, blind baby cuckoo naked, out; the fish
are so impressed by touching their wife or girlfriend's pudenda
animal births may take place with control of the air leak,
and a splash of scarlet beneath a spotted shell marks the wrecks
and the smell is foul in the vast sea of humanity,
and eerie forms of life operate out of such stations,
freed from the deforming orbit of Mars
and with different values for the eccentricity
from all parts of the earth. The idea was a good one.
A robot parade helping the body heal itself;
therapeutic dirt and electric belts played the dulcimer, trumpet,
bagpipe, guitar, oboe, and flute, half naked ever,

When an open globe is the surgical fountain of youth and drums
a labyrinth of benches and painters, poets and novelists
have come from the sea. Society collapsed, an ocelot on a leash
tumbled into oblivion severed by a breath
under which the ruins of the night would pass
into vibrating circles of thick, quick-drying saliva
a mass of frog's eggs with piercing blue eyes
that the new planet moved only like a puppy.