The Olympic Games

Amidst the Olympic games,

Beneath the diffused and anxious voices of the air,

And the metallic screeches of the toxic city,

We stand to salute the old and dangerous energy,

The fervor of nations,

Divisions, power,

Now in new garbs with ancient blood,

Do the youth lean toward the battlefield,

The insectual patriotism of billion-consciousness,

Fused minds, now cascading rivers

Of bruising death.

Our age is old,

It is weary of death by battle,

By the chant of the carnivorous mammal,

Now gripping his own release,

Fondling the new arrows of thermonuclear resolution,

The thousand suns that my grace the granite,

The thousand billowing clouds,

That soon may unveil the thousand movies, the athletes, the baseball math,

Whose equations we have retreated into like the reluctant ostrich,

Hiding her eggs in Buddhistic poetry readings,

Of matter-centric sexual buoyancy,

The hippy hypocrisy label,

The Clark Gable parties of wine and stale fruit,

The Roman grape-stuffing faggots,

As we revere English teachers and poets

Above the real,

The workers who bus their parties,

Farming their fat faces

For the green coupons of entropy,

Hidden in hateful smiles,

The wanton suffering of the rich,

Sublimated,

And flung like the mud of Hollywood into consciousness,

The droll routines of America sublimated

As a Zeitgeist of flag psychosis,

Commodity fetish.

Now only the kissing and the joy of the ridiculous can solace us;

We have built toys too stubborn to be cleaned up,

The Earth is littered with our excrement,

Mother Kali is calling us,

We cannot hear,

And few that do are too weak,

Too small to cleanse the rivers from our cities,

The wanton droppings of our boredom.

Man is lazy, even beyond conception.

He can only watch the games from the stands,

The athletes running with plastic,

Soldiers gripping things toward imaginary goals,

Leaping for gold over wood and crowds,

Racing, clobbering, frenzied,

As teams wrapped in flags for nations,

Boxing toward the religion of victory,

Until the game is over,

The flame quenched,

In our glorious banquet of extinction.