Por La Caraterra
A dark road, a night time run…..
Cocoons with searchlight antennae
Shipping workers towards the capital, towards the Corporation –
Returning from the match, an illuminated link chain of DNA
Slinks towards you, each link a cute girl’s wink;
Inviting exploration, like a mermaid’s song, On the Rocks.
Made for the passenger with room to stretch and think,
The rhythm in fifth is massaging bliss.
As microcosm lives overtake, there is no intersection.
No matter, for into voyeurism you sink.
Hey Joe, tell me, Jimi’s fingers or mine a pickin’ and strummin’?
The motorway at night in the dazzling lamplight –
She was definitely straying over there, note the chagrin.
But innit cosy inside our cocoons, wrapped up all tight!
It is a siren signal, but one that is beyond hearing,
These shared dreams are her call, corporation’s maternal yearning.
Panic! Art Gallery