Salvation is a quickening bursting,
Brief through artificial nights,
Neon flesh and a vague scent,
Carrying 99¢ perfume.
How I love these bargain bin empresses,
With kids named Dans, Toms, Dicks and Harrys
We danced, danced, danced!
The salt of her tongue was starvation,
A navel to the universe,
And I just a severed umbilical cord,
Ushering susurrus and skinny-dipping,
In the great wide belly of our divide.
And with eyes wide shut I rested my head,
On the ozone rim, stretching deep,
Dipping my feet in the aqueous sky,
Scraping a finer nuance of black,
With the tip of my fingernail,
From the roofs of the cosmos
Just follow the red carpet,
Laid out by a standing army of excited atoms,
Dancing to my pipers tune and big bangs.
How can the sound from one man’s drum,
Breathe life — where there ain't supposed to be none?
I am the clustering milky dust revolving
Round the centre of massive black holes,
I am the tiniest surge from gamma rays passing
Through moons named after gods of old.
What shores undreamt of — have I yet to become,
What bedrock has not been cooled by my wake?
We bled the hours into dawn,
As creation lay asleep,
With its giant ears resting on its paws.
In the early morning,
I rode the lonely light beams,
From an old dying sun,
Yelling and hollering,
‘No particle in universe reach further than mine!’