the world is chock full of beautiful minds
who want to deal only in elegance
aye! committed firmamentarians
jazz-fab starry-eyed antiquarians
to the lost music of the spheres they dance
in a distant speakeasy, kinds to kinds
unfortch, that's more than balanced out by dross
unflushed swirling revolutionaries
of the right and left in each hemisphere
the stench of poopheads -- get me outta here! --
paunchy pontificates on Blackberries
encrypted mean guy screeds about the boss
O the turds who scratch their fingernails down
gay crepuscular blackboards. O the sound!
