It turns out the inveterate wing nuts
inevitably have become wing nutcases
in my mind I see them caught in a rut
left by the gravity the war displaces

The train is waiting and the sign says “board”
so we run down the stairs and in we swiftly go
the seats are full except one next to the Lord
who sits there cackling making a big show

And now you are part of It your very self
so everyone not buried in the digital daze
is looking at you, too, stuck on the shelf
on display caught crafty in your worst phase

Back in the olden days of ‘50’s conformity
or the submerged underground 60’s depth
the collective response to the social calamity
this psychedelic reality became our strength

Until even now the surrealists reign supreme
while way down in the very deep sound ground
through the twisting tunnels we flow like a dream
and arrive just in time to finally get there to see

Where we were all going through this long trip
with the trees writhing like entwined reptiles
and the sky gleaming with those great pastel drips
when everything changed just because of our trials.


James Van Looy has been a fixture in Boston’s poetry venues since the 1970s. He is a member of Cosmic Spelunker Theater and has run poetry workshops for Boston area homeless people at Pine Street Inn and St. Francis House since 1992. Van Looy leads the Labyrinth Creative Movement Workshop, which his Labyrinth titled poems are based on. His work appears weekly in Oddball Magazine.