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Millenium Baby : montage by Padraig McCormack


b y   P a d r a i g    M c C o r m a c k





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Electric elegy for the mad, Mad Tristan cavorting in a Debordian spectacle, o machine! Crystals waking in the alkaloid desert, Meerkats in tight breeches playing golf with rat scat in a thick silent purple umbra, nanotech husks of dead space imploding in the general hilarity, horse-faced debutantes snorking in the wee hours of the benefit dance for the tins of condemned veal, early beer hours in diffident airports haunting necrotic pinball parlours, breeze of death in the whiff of burnt camphor closets of weewee infancy, preying mantis menace of later-day peyote hangovers jittery in paranoiac classrooms, jagged streaks of rain the diamond-cutter, hincty intent in apologias of war-time bliss, fresh turkey dinners of gentian complacency in front of the soothing TV, slightly silly and profligate district attorneys leering obsequiously at the bare midriff of the beast, the winning hand, spotless ammoniac floors of your favorite slaughterhouse welcomed the yeasty faced-youths on a field trip, proud flesh, autonomous body parts in paroxysms parading in pink light, toast the idiot grin that launched a thousand franchises, a thousand sequels, a thousand spin-offs, pips and blats of the death horse in a Nietschzian corrida, sleep of the innocent interrupts a forever war of virtual spoils, underground rivers redirected the whiskey laughter of ruination, the forage of a generation of refugees and exiles, lullaby of bayonet and rifle-snout in clean-shaven mercurial glory updated the lyricism of mustard gas into slick sonic-induced dementia, legions of righteously indignant defending the radioactive candy of the bleeding microchip, from the 99th floor of a suicide machine, the sinister soda vending machine recorded the conversation, live free or get out, huge riff of eternally burning used tires tweaked the nostrils of the accountant, piping hot trumpet trills riffle the deceptively still waters of the marshland, gone to seed, it was all yet waiting in a perfect state of neglect and abandon, roundly ignored by the war office, the nonsense candle smelting the stench in broad brush strokes of sparks, a massage of factory metals in the prefab morning, shredded news in a glot of compost put the frijol in the can, the stenographic smile raised honorific gooseflesh all over town, gronk, if this is dictation, rubles of fanaticism in the diseased light of a tumbler of woes, to and fro of abstract commerce spawning witch-hazel delight in sudden hotel bathrooms, illuminate, wizardly microtone clusters in the nod of the monk's cowl, light dimmed to allegoric sepia, bowlsfull of sweet mush and hard tack rounded out the impact plastic desire, fungods rollicking in the stew, zen wonder in robotic blunder mixing-desk quaff red bourbon aftertaste product tie-in professionalism, far afield, dead Christ on the dead floor looked dead to the homeless widow church pews piled higgedly-piggedly in a corner, all this way, tanks coming ambulance going, child with a brick of logic implacable in the halcyon days of afterglow of nightmare, maybe he'll go away, easiest decision throwing money into drains of distraction adding up to armed penthouse and merde air elitism, house on the hill, duck and cover groovy sushi neon catchy tune ignorant liberal farm-aid petroleum jelly fish poaching tiger's eye prism, what he WOULDN'T give for that, blue bosom severed gold ikon irksome buried histrionic tablets scarified with auld poetic heresies, a fart in the breeze is a datum