Shooting Phasers

The mannequin woman was glowing.
Lights, and the silver smooth voice.
Prepare for lift off with the audio level.

Heavy noises waking internal spirits.
Vibrations and a tight, banging beat.
Keys, mixed with shooting phasers.

Opener raps about friends and enemies.
Chills, outside air crisp and breezing.
Sweet spices with the fly red stripes.

The iced tea of Long Island, New York.
Just enough for the loosen up, easy.
Let the music in, let it move the body.

Balancing on the ledge of funk and poetry.
Went in for the hug, it wasn't necessary.
No worries, no worries, my love.

Here she is, a giver, a forgiver, a pretender.
Leaving this planet, with chemical brain.
In perfect rhythm, thinking the same things.