à la olivier messiaen

the trap
the rap out of New York City
the frontier art of the subways
the native inhabitants rising out of the dust of
the Eurokultur, abandoned public buildings, old TVs; even in
Africa nature
is mechanic bolting tits onto a fly-by-night cow
the sprayed out art would’ve shocked even Andy Warhol going to
church and crying out Mom! Mom! but he would’ve noticed an
actual event even in shocking slo mo
the lion prowls the subway in jeans his panther pecs his
glutes ripped he’d stroke the Beagle Boys out of their
cage their ciphers. You guessed it – it’s all topology the
electronic heart beats precise antipathy now
the balloons like white fungi rise from
the subway to
the stars