Rubber Ball Infinity Angels 

(...) and the paradise machine, voice-controlled, 
constructed an ever-lasting plastic fortress for the restless wrestlers of the message mess, 
and rewarded the lab rat brats who were rustling in their language cages,
wage-raging, horny and skinny in the spin of their no-wins,
These were the heydays of the hasty haze gaze, 
where image shoppers, chopped by the honey money pots of red hot robot dots
were silenced by the siren screech of certified services
But some angels revolted
Mishmash angels in the meshes of miss matches
rainplane brains, under mystically stained purple aviator caps, 
infant artists climbing over the barbed wire buggies of their devalued bodies
and crawling deep into the blue-lipped night
on the highest level of existence 
Rubber ball infinity angels
on the moving paths of worldly object wonders, 
where decomposed poetic bones resurrected, and the mooing of their dog nature was heard again,
in the hole of a hollow howl cage of repressive performance
a winged moon dispelled the retweetmeat