Tattooed and pierced,

come dance atop the waterfires,

orange glow of the sparkling comics,

all shambled and wild-haired,

mad scientists, mad poets,

all the un-interesting things of the seven other elements,

an uncommon girl, her mouth tender like cinnamon,

go currents, shoulder to shoulder,

the truth no religion at all,

life with all its untraceable tracks,

God everywhere you look,

incredibly mad to live! frantic as hell to live!

you must race to it all to even live,

make those bombs fade away,

telephone wire to telephone wire,

anamorphic dream, sending birds askew

with microchips to fly from Mexico

to Maine,

two blushing suns in the simmering blue waves,

in the waves of anxious music,

footsteps atop rigorous black hands,

the CIA, the Creation of Adam,

fuming in iron, magnesia, and sulfur,

in the allies, panic-stricken at times:

in dreams, in stars; life just like that,

offering nothing but confusion,

but you must embrace it; look for it in others;

see the curve of the earth in rear view mirrors,

atop the cotton-candy fog of the autumn valleys,

up there it lives in the wood smoke of the old world chimneys,

in the books under the blue starry library roofs,

you’re not alive without this sensation of death in it,

with every aching sinew, aching of loss,

desirous of everything that is commonplace

to man, being in love when it is as effortless

as dying and waking, in the haunting loneliness

of evening, where you will do it all your life,

where in this suffering twilight you will realize

that you are crazy enough to think you can change

things, change things in this great, wobbling, stabbing

dream we all call our tumultuous world.