By Kara Takasaki

The global party [consciousness]
throws confetti to the wind.

TodosJuntos

driving the universe to chaos.
Raising the iPod music wall
in the Berlin of the metro—

Colored crazies catatonic catastrophe:
resonates off the walls
a bouncing pinball through the car.

Raw sounds on cold metal
swing ‘round poles

[scuffing the CEO’s briefcase]

clanging through the dimly lit labyrinth.

Their cathartic incantation
castrates the causation,
the correlation
casts—no, hurls
coarse crimson melody;
an electrified shock,
shot through Capitalist Christian bodies
geared to autopilot.

Between

Rosa Parks
and               Miranda’s Rights

they ask for bread. [I sit]

E N T R O P Y

my friends…
Is a beautiful thing.