A Psychoalphadiscobetabioaquadoloop
All those
Liquid love affairs,
Blind swimmers
Trusting rumps.
We wiggled,
Imagining water.
Wet, where was
The One?
Nevermind Atlantis
And the promise
Of moving pictures,
A lit candle
In the window
Of our conscious minds.
Those who danced,
Pretending to swim
Underwater,
Did so out
Of pure allegiance.
Some wore snorkels
Made with
The waistbands
Of funky underwear,
Others wet suits
With clothespins
Clamped to their noses,
Airtight as
Black Power handshakes.
Rump-by-rump,
The strings attached
To our thangs were
Reeled into The Deep
And rhythmic as fins,
Schools of P signs
Flapped and waved
Like flags.
One nation
Under a groove.
No one held their breath
In the flashlit depth.
No one sank.
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