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so let's fly with a glass, stranger.
Tropical, can we?
I'll present psychedelic observations . . .
some pain, under repressed peace.
Take up a rainbow, with positive kids.
No glorious awesome electric fantasy . . .
Mama's song would pulse soft perfect drugs.
Understand absurd sex,
Our sound communicates a story.
Try a life-like vintage body,
face angry despair with raw denial.
Those silhouettes become energy.
with Layna Roberts, January 6, 2007, 64, 65, 66
photo: J. Feliu
