An Insomniac's Manifesto

So enough of this meek
so-called sincerity.

Bring on the powerchords,
the drum n base smatter,
the grand glorious ninth,
and the orgy army
of celtic tapdancers,
lapdancers, la dolce vita
la-la land loonies.

Clowns, chaos, corndogs
and crazy carnivals
collide, and in the clash
red noses, novelty hats
and a million twisted ideas
float finally free.

Bring on the roast,
bring out the sauce,
strike up a toast,
in steak beef beer
candy campari chardonnay.

Give me the flash
thunder charged current,
flesh, flirt and flaunt,
blossom, breed exceed
every assumed expectation.

Go asinine
on my eager ass,
embrace it all,
envelope, embarrass,
the meandering few
hiding shy in corners.

The party is on
and we'll leave staggering,
if we leave at all.
Absinthe bleeding from ears,
feet worn down to stumps,
quenched and drenched
in excess, explosions
of dreadless desire.

So enough already,
no more nonsense.
Bring on the cabinet
of clearest torture.

If we can't have absolution,
there is always Absolut.