The Testing Poem by Greg Perlman

The testing of yesterday's prophets
Along the road where the dry mop sits
Conditioned disjunction
Complete with the function
Of causing a major major disruption

And the sun hits the trees
Between the American breeze
And lights candy coconuts
As far as the eye can see
It's clear to me
That the pain is real deep
That into every single vein it will creep
And that my mind's made of hell
And opportunity death
The joyous laughter, again got swept
Beneath a rug
Made to hide bugs
That infest the dying tragedy
Of our stringent reality
But really just laugh
At us

Arhythmic
Unthinking
Mystically linking
Cognition that's flowing
And thoughts that are leaking
Completely completed
With measured unheeded
For revolutionary currents
That get overheated

Complacence is
The miracle cure
The truth with pores
And a fading wound unhealed