You could find things beautiful on the radio

Even the sunny black n blond ones dancing like Toms in the wings  of their   wandering casualness  (hotline bling   asmr  ad sense   revenants     could be found  laughing   tender  round the gentry/unburdened orinthology , and  me singing along in a buttered SUV   wishing it a minty vespa   wishing supper was all those coconuts   mumbling  about privilege into my     adobe  will      and  answering us   we wanted it thus        the fetish of our ancestry  worn   as   the phantom exuberance   of trends  is warn    as dented  sweaters   as Dante's  leftover treason  swarms  in we       there's a whole scene of vegan chefs whispering into plastic bags and you think earth  is no weirder than lenny bruce on stage   at a resort      in your memory      that was your mother  laughing  at the minstrel   she   made    in  a  mercy    she     heard about on the radio   mailed   in for /  papa  , look at your  shadow     mama is no   colonist  getting  loose   on the  camera/ phone     werk!   gul    werk  some more