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 ELECTRONIC TRANSITIONAL SOUL

                            or

              please one more kiss

 

 

 

ectoplasmic pools shackle feet

meant to walk fly transport

time with no guilt

and here you are not

advancing to overtures made in night

and daydreams of fulfillment

 

walking off the set

you know the difference only in place

not time to dawdle on swings

- never spit on the downswing -

but I’m sure you know this by now

 

you are gone into audile-tactile sense

downed pants and microphone farts blasé

in sound of new symbols understood

sword and cup    PC boards

and chips of only certain design

to animate real

each asking adulation

from flesh turned electric acid tones

 

and shape  shape matters not

in a vacuum defined

cosmologic entities squirm

for the right to recognition

as Hitler’s SS killed Jews

I kill you at nights end

 

and the chrome reflection shoots skyward

not yet returned

but hoped for geometry

leads to open fires and unimaginable wheels

printing my soul

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