Young man, the neon future shrieks so bright

‘Til you gone and done it,
Knocked-up by your own ideas
Children growing on their own,
Self-made automatons.
Electric current riding in their bones,
What tricky beasts they are.
When hearts belch blood without being told
And the power switches have been plundered
Unheard tongues lick your eardrums
In sounds so uncomprehending.
There are only miniature choices to purchase
When the anthills grow to pyramids in bloom.
Melt Tokyo, drown Sri Lanka, startle San Fran and burn ‘em too,
Microwave their skin into hornet nest boils
And retreat to the dark face of the moon.
Let the satellites and rocket ships catch a glance
Into this one-sided cosmic post-modern romance.
No more masquerades in sunshades.

The city lights outshine you, Child.