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