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I saw the best minds of my generation destroyed by
access, craving hysterical naked
dragging themselves through wired rooms at dawn
looking at an angry prof,
webheaded hipsters surfing for the ancient heavenly
connection to slutty dynamos in the machin-
ery of screens
who student loans and ramen soup and high sat
up clicking in the supernatural darkness of
powerpoints floating across the tops of heads
contemplating tits and ass,
who bared their brains to Teacher under the Synchroneyes and
saw their online angels vanish when she shut them down,
who passed through universities with dead cool eyes
hallucinating Girls Gone Wild
among the angry scholars,
who were expelled from the academies for
obscene sites on the windows of the
screen
who cowered in unseen seats in underwear, burn-
ing their parents' money in screens and listening
to music through headphones,
who chained themselves to laptops for the endless
ride from Freshman to dropout until
battered bleak of brain all drained of brilliance
in the drear light of YouTube,
Vanished into nowhere Zen
leaving a trail of iPods and cellphones,
who lounged hungry and lonesome through class
seeking jazz or sex or soup,
who faded out in vast sordid movies & their heads
shall be crowned with laurel in oblivion,
who transcribed words which in the yellow morning
were stanzas of gibberish.
Moloch whose mind is pure machinery!
Moloch whose ear is a smoking tomb!
Moloch whose eyes are a thousand blind windows!
I'm with you in Lapland
where you bang on the catatonic piano
where fifty more shocks will never return
your soul to its body again
