blasting through in a Sound poem |
On Amtrak glam track, where clickety-clack meets yakety-yak, hoity-toity party pack, going gaga over Dada, glares at bourgeois commuters, slaves to their computers, with elegant arrogance in spiritual ritual of catty chatter to preserve their presumption of social transcendence over hoi poloi riffraff trapped in arid desert of the mundane. La-dee-dah! Poet's Notes: ▶︎ |