Flash Legend

There came a time when the revolution seemed imminent,
          when one could hear the crowds banding together
          in the street and demanding their leader's head on a pole,
a great terrifying time when those who wanted most
          to see everything crumble feared most for
          where their course was destined,
the place beyond the edge of the earth that can give life to fallen heroes, they
          were all heroes who were shot down in their own blind fury
          we sat around wondering who would be the next to dive before Leviathan
she swims the ocean floor lurking waiting dominating
          and when she dies the world will hear her howls
          her bastard children melt, become fuel for solidarity
The upheaval is no pessimist condemnation excuse
          for self-isolated chemical craze, negation
          but orgiastic rites in a collective vision quest congregating

I prayed to Saint Allen Marx who knows time,
          gave emerald and jade absinthe libations
          green fairy offering tithes, red manifesto
and his reply: “Stop praying now,
          stop believing in prayer or in God's religion
          but get up and shut up and go make your own luck.”
He trod here once sensual and demanding one or two hits
          is all he took and then I offered a drink
          so he told marvelous things, the downtown musk
          the drizzle rain wind, light buzz pheromone breeze
          hazy Dublin mist-drop rain
he made his way inside and sat down for awhile to make a stir
          stirring me awake driving-in great hard inebriation

Lioness swayed me hopping hope motion
          she told me to play the trip guide psychonaut
flocks rolling above shining air circles
          she told me to play the slut pleasing
          striptease low tectonic golden grace, faraway intensity
Spanish priests naked on the warm floor torn
          tune hum lamenting time and its forgotten instruments
          she told me to play the delicate flower soft delight
          my head held to her breast breath rising rested

Our melody, our beat was post-apocalyptic
          and the song she sang post-rock after music muted
          with no more concertos or ballads or dirges left to write.
Our beat, our beat-down drumbeat hollering bellowing downbeat
          uptempo, a hard-on your feet dance, not a friendly
          dance, frenzied impassioned flurry—PLUR dance
through the whole night we flailed sweat-covered light
          happy gay neon, everyone stripped down nude
          under moonlit club lights, rough play-fights,
          all-day torrent lip chewing, blue green purple pink
happenings and danger music plow down Molotov cocktail crowds
          firecrackers pop ejaculation flare-shots to cloud cover

On this day the mushrooms sprang with caps ignited like
          the churning razors of sand, of salt, of passionate ill
          enter Oberon with the wispy concoction
an herbal remedy for the ages, high-pitched coloration swing
          high-strung mentality sprung from earth's surface
          this our sight and sense, warmth of feeling-up heat bodies
Arise! today tears drip from God's face,
          a gray mourning black morning-time tide ripped asunder
          the face of earth itself, and wind...
She floats in glass clear sunlight ocean sands
          today bright terrestrial high and fierce contentment
          wind and solar breeze strand blown into being.