The Music of Exploding Lights
So you´re still listening
to your baby-boomer music
while watching the crying
colours of the light:
white or coloured lines splitting up
within seconds into all too bright
and pulsating rainbow colours.
But this time it´s not Pink Floyd,
or the Grateful Dead, God forbid,
not even your favourite poison, The Doors,
plus the soft or hard drugs
that are doing it.
It´s a random computer programme
and neither your voice nor the music
sound the same as they did
in your first girlfriend´s cellar
with her old record player.
Today you´re sober, a bit dizzy perhaps,
but definitely not stoned
and the difference to the flower power days,
including the lost kick, is only a small price
you´ve got to pay, thank God,
for being still alive and kicking
thirty-odd years down the road.