Spectacafabulastic is the name of my game
popsicle, pop-sickle, sick like the pop
of nuclear mushrooms feeding on dead decaying

mountain snow-covered-peak downs ski-slopes because of
melting from the rays of the atomic cloud with
the himalayas, with hima, hima-na-laya, no ma, no mother

no mother man, no india, no mother india
no rhythm of the sound of hooves and hoof and hoover making
splashes of monsoon on my magic, smelling mud popping plip-plop
smelling like its just rained, plop, pop, pop like the drop 

like the drop on the top, top drop, falling slamming into the earth
into a puddle of humanity, a pakistani missle from insanity
splash goes new delhi.
splash goes mumbai city.

Spectacafabulastic unbelievable sunsets in Guatamala continue
radiation from the south asian stupidity, wide is its reach
alma mater, mater, matter, matter into energy, e = mc squared
einstein wants his equation back, the souls of indians vaporized

traumatized, sleeping on melting footpath, melting snow, avalanches
and dreams of yellow powders on your skin and in your food man,
curry rice is spice when its diced with gamma radiation
no consolation, but jinnah's dream goes pop in retaliation.

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