Aluminum Eldorado (with Practical Tactile Christ)
Oh, if I could wish upon a star...
and tap dance lightly for eternity upon the xylophone sidewalks of magnificent mansions in gated communities, with daily games of croquet played politely upon
manicured lawns along streets of holy gold.
I will play my feeble hymns upon a cheap Casio keyboard whilst floating on chiffon clouds made totally from the noxious gases of God;
I will perhaps pray to prostrate my terrible self, day after day, for eternity, to the World's Most Famous Jew.
Or not. I prefer to defect to oblivion anonymously on the polished grille of a speeding Peterbilt,
Obliterate instantly, entirely, insignificantly;
Splattering surplus molecular matter into every conceivable hole and smoke;
Whilst all around the zombies repeatedly kill die lie cry and compete to be "The Most Famous Ketchup Stain on Gods Favorite Tie."
Well not I. I'd rather fly high above these crude rubrics of mind-fuck, myths and moods of surreal self, altogether;
Forever, therefore, inextricably dispersed into Sparkling Quarks of Fresh Orange and Water; into the Remarkable Particles of Brand New Dolphins, into
diamond sharp shards of cubist Jaguars.
I'd rather diminish again silently into the Secret Sugar Frosting of carbon-based Star materials,
Sprinkled ever so lightly over Her every Breakfast Cereal forever,
into configurations of Ice, Bamboo or Saturn.
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