I go through all this before you wake up

Appearance Day

Drumming&humming at Evita's

Dream on, on to the heart of the sunrise

Oh you sonof..

Sister lovers water brothers

Once upon upon there was a mind that went places it shouldn't.

.....................if you're crazy too....

Probably. Probably shouldn't.

...I don't really see..

And they lived happily ever after in the here and now.

...Why can't we go on as

interfuckingmission

You put your clothes on and you leave me.

Your costume monologues

rock and roll linen

progressive chord

acid velvet.

(There's no set;

we're shooting on location.)

Though while your clothes cover you,

you're out there in the world,

a member of society... however blurry and brownish. 

Fuck The Man!

(fuck the man.)

You lure me out of my

San Fransisco floral

Piccadilly patterns

cotton candy.

When my clothes cover me,

I'm playing a part... however liberal the libretto.

Still wrapped in plastic.

Our costumes look good together, yet

better

(ripped)

apart.

(ripped)

off.

Reduced to thread.

From costumes to props.

Rhythm residue on your carpet.

You leave the stage for the orchestra pit.

Curtains close. 

Applause. 

By the time we get to woodstock

you've assumed a more familiar form.

For only when I see your body do I see your soul.

Only when I see your jazz do I see your blues.

Only when I see your country do I see your folk.

There lies an island.

There lives a piper.

I come when you whistle.

Harvest

The sky is icy blue and the air is crisp. Cold blue steel and sweet fire. I spent the morning listening to Neil Young. Neil Neil Neil dear old Neil with the gipsy voice and the crazy horse hair. Go look at your eyes, they're full of moon! And post-Neil I tend to get Joni-cravings. Oh, Canada! Like a cigarette after sex or.. or that espresso to go with your whiskey. She's always delicious. Gorgeous and satisfying. Even when she kills me. Be prepared to bleed.

grooves

You have a scent much like that of library books. Wondrous stories. And incense. And pine cones. Spicy red wine, a touch of purple berries. And the sleeves of those scratchy old records. I spin your vinyl backwards. Trying to decipher hidden messages. I spin your vinyl backwards. Trying to get back on track.