Future Nights

Bred nights to have night
ideas, night worlds.
I get only a fish glimpse
of my dreams. Some of them
are on treadmills, I think.
Tower debris, tower static,
this is how I wake up.
Every which reptile while
behind the time-lapsed traffic
there’s a flashing repetition
I might confuse with your name.
New self-replicating transits
appear right outside this window,
behind the Basquiat plant’s steam.
The State has these god-like captures,
satellite selfies give me screaming mimis.
Of course, I feel hella Neolithic
living here in all this space garbage.
Did you know red is fatal to birds,
why they fly into those radio and t.v.
towers blinking like Mars all night?
Go look at all the dead warblers
at their bases if you don’t believe me.
We’ve scrambled their magnetism up.
I know an artist who is making a cape
from these. A king of Easter Island.
Soon, moai will start appearing
all around your city. They’ll rise up
out of the earth into the night,
as cyber-bees that will be launched,
fly around the bodies of nightwalkers
to advertise with small beams
of white light. Face of Wm. Burroughs
will be on a candy bar that makes
all the faces melty cheese. Children will stay
in transit tubes at all times, going
from home to work or school.
The animal fringes are coloring
our future, the entire atmosphere
just an interplanetary pinwheel.

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