There is a location that is sporadic
Erratic
Here one moment, then gone,
Phantasmagoric
Terrifying, horrific
Spontaneous, combustions, fun by the ton
Coupled with circuit breakers, set to crash
The party, to end this LED belighted night-time thrash
Mash it all together, the monster mash,
1, 2, 3, let's all do the monster mash!
One, two three,
What is it that we see?
Through the ashened grove
By the darkened riverside, floating by,
Amid thousands upon thousands of specks
Of random lights, bits of photons
Accelerated bonds breaking, particles
Careening, adding to the randomness, there is
A bundle of cloth, a scrap
Of feeling, a whispering
Of thought? Too fleeting
And you shake your head, drive out these bewildered
Routes, from these mental roadmaps drop
Like liquid beadings flung outwards by the maddened
Frenetic shaking of a soggy dog, drip, drop off
Out, away, gone
Too fast, too much, too hard
Its erratic, you say,
I say, this is erratica
Fantastica, magica, erratica

This is life
We might as well live it
Convulse together, feet trampling across
Green fields dotted
With daisies, puddles, and stars
This erratica, this frenetic motion
Bringing alternatives into volition
Making dreams come to fruition
This erratica, sprinkling of spirits
Energy coursing through every one
All mass, all matter connected by a determinant factor
And the erratica, bursting at the seams
Willing to be released, it is life
But I see faces turning, away
Fingers clinging to chain-link arrays
Of fences, of defenses
Of barriers to crying faces
Because we think that hoping, wishing
Deface us, deflate us
Leaving us open to be stabbed
It is true, erratica is not cozy
Not cotton-balled soft, not capped and corked
And packed in layers of bubble-wrap and foam

So through this night, I wander, I wonder
Am I alone in erratica
Or was I first in line to send myself off
Bubblewrapped, for the morti-cian