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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.