Waltzing across my Tunnel Vision
Streaking Technicolor beauty,
She is abstract and electric
With a patent leather shine.

Kissing me with lips phased in red
Ones change to zero, the screen goes dead.
Then we share a binary orgasm
Of over-engineered design.

This tube transistor nonsense
Blurred by encrypted syntax static,
Is where I find the phantoms of salvation
Of the bankrupt and benign.

Upon a landscaped suburban purgatory
Of manicured mediocrity
The fire of Manifest Destiny
Has been auctioned cheap on-line.

The cookie cutter gingerbread men
Swinging nine irons into oblivion
Are unaware of the commercialized sin
In the chocolate Valentine.

Will we end up caged in this morgue?
Or waive our rights @ humanity.org?
Who knows if these thoughts I'm thinking
Belong to you or if they're mine.

<continuing>.....