.

If you're out there, call the cops, I'm surrounded by

John Wayne Gacy clown-a-thon types who would rule me

by remote control, loopty-loop, barricudas --

sidesaddle naked on rouged Suzuki scooters

who would strap on Darth Vader dildos to tool me

and bring out trills, flourishes. O my unbounded cry!

What with all the excitement of the circus scene,

I will be glad to return to atomic space;

back to my phenomenology, and the arts,

all rolled up into one; me, doing tumble carts

until the bonds dissolve and, free at last, I chase

nothing, and become the question behind the screen.

Now that the rolling pearl harbors come in like waves,

we drown, and Dr. Frankenstein opens the graves.