Pink Smog

there is a pink fog rolling the tolls to the twilight of the idols
the glow in the lamps electric sallow, jaundice, mysterious
draped in vapors, cigarette smoke, like a club in Casablanca
happy transform of the daily life into the cinema noir
the nightclub of our dreams, choke-cherry-cheeked
the fingers of the leafless trees arthritis bent clawing sky
oh melancholy brooding and dove-shiver under covers
telling the bed-time story the lullaby and blue fumes
raindrops jewel the brims of hats, the rose-water,
tinkles the air with bells of jingle and rosary bead crystals
the day that heaven opened upon the shepherds
two, no three, one hidden in the murky pallor
three kings in a whisky jar clearly uncorked, lightening
strikes, fiat lux, tesla-coils, hacked cosmos sputter
those air-planes roaring purely powerfully, three cheers
for the red, white and pink flamingo feathers
our world standing on one skinny leg flying flags
over our great plastic reefs & space junk basins
now comes the hour before dark, lets drink our tea
stirred by the stolen tcheringas and clove sticks
lets roll out the steel rails for all to see the flower of power
let's bask in the revolutions mudless freedom to run
ice rings around the earth, show our lotus faces
play the gods whose redirected light we've almost
grown to feel we humanist exceptionalists believe we really own
this artificial light our artificial dark our labor, alien, alone