Metronome in ecstasy;
part of the non aesthetic reality,
reflected pools of sanctity,
upbeat psychological permutations
coming from the transistor radio’s
biological peat abhorrence.
Most of a nuclear
winter wonder land,
the seamstress has
fused with her dresses,
and the carpenter’s
weight in gold.
Mother Nature, may I suggest,
that your death be mandatory
to bring about extinction of religion,
So gods may plummet from the sky;
in the blinking of our eyes, and our last breath
hyper-realized deconstructive relaxation technique.