Space... the final franchise:
to
seek out new pockets and
deep
wallets of unsuspecting
moon
dog users, wild and
willing to take up a life of treky
style
conventions or learn Klingon;
go to
unplanned events supported
mainly
by no-income people,
one
more experimental venture
in
crowd participation or a
journey through the reason
why
I'm here, perhaps to prove
the
pyramids were built by roadies.
Old
men beware!
There
is only a shade of a hair’s
difference between stubble chic
and
stumblebum grizzled.
Oh,
the science of nervous endings.
Ah, to
touch everything there is.
Guilt,
grief, wonderment,
Life
created by the mindless.
Seamless cultural consequences
are
coming soon to a brain cell
nearly
you, a digital nuance,
all
the ambiguities that computers
couldn't deal with until now.
Welcome to the invisible alphabet
but,
once again, you aren’t listening.
Art is
real, you know. It’s reality
that
has all the dreamlike features.
