To send a boom through city streets.
A Doc-footed woman is deep within the dancing tribe.
She is young.
She dances off her baggage -
In the midst of strobe mayhem
And the wall's fractal show.
Anchored to the bass-drum's one-beat bar,
Samples break out of sound-systems,
To travel loudly, via bleeding ears,
Down into her teen spirit.
Alive to these tangible sounds,
The girl's wild hands scratch the air.
Her body, loose-headed and loose-limbed,
Dances the dance of epileptic ecstasy.
At the decibel peak of this Techno Rite of Summer,
She dances herself to an e-death.
The others recover from easy-come, easy-go,
Dance-floor nirvanas,
To drag sagging bodies home.
Today there was no god to demand such a sacrifice -
Only pleasure's deity smiled.
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