by Stephen Aloysius Bischoff
Acid skeletons riding
Machine explosions on two wheels
Where red men once roamed
Like the buffalo they hunted
Now we’re all ghosts
Of the same genocide
That started with flesh
And ended with anesthesia
Numbing our brains
Into a silent submission
With our final desire
To be simply left alone
Until our souls became
So thin you could see
Right through them
Like tracing paper
The rocks in the desert remain
Even through nuclear tests
As the last audience of the American
Tragedy
Acid skeletons white knuckling ape hangers
Bones howling as tires
Devour landscape to the horizon
With a Zen no mind driving
With LSD awareness
Searching for one last bastion
For an encore
The mythical un-bastardized phoenix
Of the all consuming American dream.
