Slow Burn

Feel the slow burn

Churning in retro-time

ashes mount on stereo-tops

Paper trails fall with bass lines

Vines tangle nude teenage lovers

And bear fruit bongs

Which breathe purple haze

 

In the apocalypse, shattered beer bottles clutter

The budding of Buddha flowers

Who instruct disciples on the essence of an enlightening high

Where they will meet the Rippled Dragon

Formed of faerie flesh, sweet star sweat,  moonshine, and sun streaks

Letting them tread on scale paths simmering with the dreams of unborn children

Feeding from the glimmer between twilight’s edge, and -twix the eyes

 

Rude IV-lines

Clamor for position in lines

Snaking for the closest spot

To watch the band snyth rhythms corresponding

with the destruction of reality, space, and time

as the chorus comes on repeat

a tidal wave of Styx beats the ground in response

sweeping away all non-personal to the nearest designated exit

 

and from the world tree

Thought and Memory laugh

As the monkey god cries

Beating his drum to bring the chariot of fire

Hoping to reveal some salvation

When all that’s left is the haze

Of the rock and roll band.