On South Beach, they parade
in jackets and skirts.
Jackets have these funky capsules silk screened,
advertising their favorite mix.
Seeking stimulation from the dip.
Those capsules are crushed
into the tomato brew
mixed with peppers,
acid mingling in the spice.
Dipping chips of corn,
partying on the Miami beach,
waiting for their God to come.
Akira is his name, large is his form.
The partiers are summoning destruction.
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