sometime between 1991 and 1996
a poem for younger readers from my hypertext novel axel-and-alice
weird music
I hear weird music grappling with giants in the atmosphere I make
I try to comfort the hurt ones of the world with chains of metal love
I think calm thoughts even when it’s useless even when it’s darkest
I imagine crazy things happening in ordinary times but not tomorrow
I hear the music clanging like sharp orange things at night bursting bad
I push ideas down the throats of people who should eat more salads now
I laugh at the newspapers that fall from the sky covered with baby photos
I hate to write thank you letters to animals that stand in wet fields dumb
I exercise ready for attack from unexpected avalanches in radio despair
I manipulate errors in other people’s heads so they can’t think straight at all
I pump an evil liquid through the drains that run under the cruel city scream
I shove snow balloons through the doors of factories in black space emptying
I finger little hard blocks of plastic red and blue that might explode stars
I stuff steel balls into the native animals that get under my itchy footsteps