for Allen Ginsberg</em>

I saw the dreams of hopeful yearning youth
drugged through televized fairy tales leading
like a dangling carrot just out of reach,

sleeping through lessons on desire meant to
taunt into complacency's downward spiral into
Satan's lavishing lair,

hardened romantics harboring illusions of
grandeur, churning celestial navigation into the
big-banged machination turning the stars,

who with empty minds and torn souls and
hollowed spirits and drunk sat up delivering
sermons of nirvana in the suburbs and jeweled
trinkets clogging the arteries of buildings,

who bared their souls to the devil over the
internet and saw cherry-wooded cherubs stilted
on highrises and bridges,

who moved into the spotlight for their 15
minutes with dark sunglasses winking for the
crowd hallucinating super-stardom and the
tragedy of regret among the gangsters of rap,

who were kicked out of the closets for loitering
among the priests' sacramental garb and
penned poems of pornographic dildos
contemplating suicide,

I saw them all and regretted chalky chewing,
determined to eschew the rotting foundation of
soul and spirit, to instead titillate the tide of
imagination's ocean-liner daring it to return
once more, to always return.

Linked to Open Link Night @ dVerse</a>