“TYM (Thank-You Machine)”

TYM

Down in the ground, deep
  underneath the green,

far below the magic
  of the spouting seeds,

in the hot, quick center
  of the everything:

the always-running, mother-loving 

     Thank-You Machine.

High in the sky, above the satellite screen,

past all of the stars all our lenses have seen,

in the still, chill outers of everything:

the ever-shining, atom-binding 

     Thank-You Machine.

   Gabba-gabba, wanna-wanna Thank-You Machine

   Jumblini, crumblini Thank-You Machine

   Hi-ho trailus, hoodoo-voodoo Thank-You Machine

   Boip-boip, woof-woof  Thank-You Machine

Around and surrounding the ripples of being,

into dimensions beyond seventeen,

of the holey, holy torus of the everything:

the inner turning, outer churning Thank-You Machine.

   Oh-pa, baba-re-ba Thank-You Machine

   Pachalafaka Thank-You Machine

   Electric Aunt Jemima with a Thank-You Machine

   Shoop-shoop, Yadda-yadda Thank-You Machine