Studio8 - Uniting the Arts

the cool cats speak in a jazz tongue
waiting outside of the mother ship
with a bag of ancient dreams spice
the stars are far away tonight
just like every night since the beginning
which word is a myth remembered of old
in the cosmic universe there is no tail
the tells that were once told only passed
from traveler to traveler world to world
what was once said filled heads with vision
opened dimensions through the star gates
down through the stellar tubes shine time
jeweled incense danced its smoky arms
through the inter-dimensional temples
of outer portals casting god like glances
along the galactic back roads of infinity
the words of origin are the origin of words
language only entered later the first snake

the cool cats speak the mother tongue jazz
the space is the place ships rotate to sound
sounds from space roll toward great clangor

convolutions of confabulations contract the count
we are down for the ages of astronomical utterance
shaking lose vast consciousness of forever far-out
shapes shifting illusions of divine dissolution, zeros-out

This poem will not find itself in any commercial card of greetings, thank God, it's too good for that. Heavy going, Burroughish, but man, the poet says it all, brings in the dark hours and background music that nonetheless tap the toes to the jazz feel.

convolutions of confabulations contract the count
we are down for the ages of astronomical utterance
shaking lose vast consciousness of forever far-out
shapes shifting illusions of divine dissolution, zeros-out...

Best lines imo.