Well not really, more like sit at home with all sorts of rules and time limts the new Taylorism, at home. Watched the Yankees lose, and hung wet laundry around the loft like an 17th century washer woman.
Having to write means having to have an agenda. Having to have something to write. The right to write is inalienable. It is most basic. It is primal. It is the original, no copy.
Stand up and let yourself be known. Has beens and no-names are just as welcome as celebrities in my world, and pioneers of the cerebellum bell tower kinda power are my fave who cares about the queen. Burn the village.
Awoke to shreds of lost consciousness, unbearable and impossible to read, coming back in reflections. Seeing what is there, actually there. This is the central theme. Seeing the real, actual. Being real. Authentic.
The heat is on, no a/c, just grin and bear it. Hang on the fire escape and impeach the sky, crazy colors hovers over me majestic field aplenty.
Vortex and angry cyclone swirls. People take the spooky too serious and don't know what they are harnessing. Be careful of the kooks all around you, and I am not demonstrating paranoia. I am the kook. I am crazy, let it be told. Call me home from the war, lock me up. Hang me with bedsheets, hide me. Die. Lend me two nickels so I can rub you the wrong way.
I never believe any of you are real. My delusion is mine to keep, and we keep on playing. Play with me and drive me oh soooo crazee.
I challenge everything and nothing at the same time. I am the warrior with no beef. The vegan who eats Soy Sausages. The King of the palace. Large and in Charge, recognize.
_______________________
"Welcome to the machine " said the Magic Man.
He said goodbye to the Stranger of Nazareth who wanted to sleep all day. He couldn't wait for the answer in the morning with jokers to the left of him, so he took in the air tonight at the top of Solsbury Hill.
The Magic Man thought to himself, Its so easy with a heart of gold, but whos crying now that I am hooked on a feeling of being stuck in the middle with you Diamond Girl.
The genesis of misunderstanding began with that evil woman wo took me to her house on Baker street tonight. She said, " Id really love to see you tonight my sweet lord."
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