The American Celebrity

The young man comes of age
sheds his hebetic celibacy
retaining rivalries,
mistaking peas in a pod
with weeds in the sod.

Goes tribal, dismisses the bible
like a Bratislavan Beowulf Beatnick
quoting Ginsberg and Kerouac
in a test tube commune.
He muddles through the adolescent maze
in a alcohol induced haze.

Adorned with Iditarod eyewear
and saddle sore, saddle shoes;
he dances like an acrobat house cat
under the influence
of a nightshade heat wave.

Like a mad man from Pasadena
he's a repentant rock star idolater
checking his egomania
in the data base of the local town hall
tugboat cartel luxury hotel
under the anecdotal false name
of Asian Floozy Aroma.

A saber rattling swordsman
taking a cheap chip shot
he hit the deep hot spot
with pump action air rifles and a pair
of swing shift six-shooter
pearl-handled revolvers.

After some ghoulish admonishment
from government tools
he now thinks he's a white dwarf
taking that dangerous ecliptic path
to the spiral spheres of the ringed planets
in orbit around the giant red star;
believing he is just one step away
from going super-nova
without reason or accountability.