Lightkick! 2

Jamming was ok with whoop and smelly

projectiles in the special ops dinner jacket—

Twas the night before we killed the lights

and plutonium yelped from the depths of yawp

And our grandpas stunk the place to high

stock options in bull market spectaculars—

Heaven, “where my bing-bongs at?” they scowl, closing out

the paygap with a wink, photoshopping lawsuit teeth!

You must know that winter is the strain

on greenhouse benefits—that shared and lackadaisical

Heart of the writer’s soul—it is her

Spring, sprung and forever longing

If it takes all day I will catch you ratface

sniffer of opportunistic chords, a catchcry riff

Love has penetrated the nation-company’s grip on taste,

to let statues rise when they should topple

(Petrol state in wet sludge runoff)

Hail sunshine brigades of light sword rockers

To tamper with permissions in script doctors’

roost-rules, elisions in the celluloid simulacra—

love us, love us first, love us furious.