New Laws for the Common Man
On seeing Stephen Tyler at Heathen
“… and make your nightmare pattern.”
Power. Heathen. Paint
Electric light escape
I see the pilot in your eye
If I reach it
It turns Priest, flower powered
Or my Choice deceiver.
So I don’t try
But I watch the pilot Light
And do a nose dive
Onto another magazine cover
Humpf. Yowl.
Rich and in leather
With a famous mouth.
I’ll kiss it and drive
The tunnel you breathe through
And come out alive
Serpent-eye-wise
Beyond Burning Man
To look out with you,
From your estate, on the balcony
Where the cream stays obscenely cool
Even in the midday afternoon,
At these apocalyptic desert scenes
Like the businessman you are.
Until not just you but me too sees with
Crackling eye that flashes laughter
As it calculates and wastes
Forked tongues like dollar bills
On you too, to take
What’s available
When you hold still.
It’s as titillating as it is obscene
I capture
The faint of a lifetime in your eye.
A memory: I see
Heathen dreams. A vampire who sings
Of hope.
Like the scissorhands of Edward
And old England with her restless shores
Master maker, DJ of the Lost Beat
Heroine of the needle poke.
It’s in the yellow iris
And his searching jaw
The hunger that hangs
From his expensive chest
Like an open claw.
The law. The new laws
For the Common Man.
Source:
http://65janestreet.wordpress.com/2013/05/15/post-american-idol/