Day Twenty-Two: ‘A Close Encounter Of The Thirdest Kind’

April 26, 2015

When I am wild like the USA
and brains dip from my ears like melting ice cream
you will see the power of a heavy hum
from the stagefront as the singer looks left, right
then back to drumset pentagram stencil center.
The evening will bring music and a feast
of earache and the entrails of the crowd
will slop under Converse soles and the stench
of rotten victory will fill the halls.
In schools the teachers will teach a tomorrow
without holy wars or blood-oil and instead
zoom in on a collective fan response,
a close encounter of the thirdest kind,
and steal new knowledge like lunch money. Or not.


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