my arms tired and weary,
as if only I could dance away
the funereal dirge of downbeats,
one after the other. Has love
at last gone into permanent hiding?
A blather of negative ions has splattered
the world like a Pollock painting gone mad.
I need an electric body of quantum physicists
to join in tracking down the missing trillions
of positive molecules that have fled in disarray.
Perhaps if we all just get our hands jazzy enough-
come on join me- and we will not stop waving
and swaying our jazz hands until this world
explodes with a new dynamic, powered only
by our jazzy jazz hands.