A Psychoalphadiscobetabioaquadoloop

All those Liquid love affairs, Blind swimmers Trusting rumps. We wiggled, Imagining water. Wet, where was The One? Nevermind Atlantis And the promise Of moving pictures, A lit candle In the window Of our conscious minds. Those who danced, Pretending to swim Underwater, Did so out Of pure allegiance. Some wore snorkels Made with The waistbands Of funky underwear, Others wet suits With clothespins Clamped to their noses, Airtight as Black Power handshakes. Rump-by-rump, The strings attached To our thangs were Reeled into The Deep And rhythmic as fins, Schools of P signs Flapped and waved Like flags. One nation Under a groove. No one held their breath In the flashlit depth. No one sank.