A bebop roadshow, slapping and jumping

Loose and direct, structured like a wire

Going zip and zap, spreading its electrical seed,

Feeling around the corner, hiding with the lights on

Do we know what it is?

I can't acknowledge my skin is prickling,

My hair is rippling,

My blazing accusation. 

It feels me around a dark corner, when I am waiting in the dark

For the bright LED to change

From red

To green

To blue again.

When I watch their films, I remember the book

I remember my imagination, the concepts that I had grown and planted

I had drawn.

The way the proverbial cat leaps towards salvation 

Leaps into the river

Towards death and away from it too.

It compels me

Like a twisted, raving psychopath

Hiding bodies filled with suitcases

In his body-filled suitcases.

I watch and I remember

Pepto-bismol commercials, thick-necked men in white t-shirts, and long pipes full of some tobacco.

It reminds me that my world is

Not yet transient

Like the proverbial train like the proverbial cat

Like the proverbial proverb, which stings like a cut wire,

Which scares me andfrightens me away, away

I, too, cannot live forever 

But my own world with its hierarchy

With its "own artistic merit"

With its Westerns

And its make-believe and dressing up and expressionism

It can defy and outlive, define and relive

And it gives me satisfaction.