I've been so absorbed in music for the past two years or so that I've neglected posting here so I offer this poem from my book Till We Have Faces:
Are You Ready?(In memory of Bob Kaufman)
Are you ready for laminated Jesus eyes
squeezing through four-way intersections
before the light turns red?
For Okie caviar oozing gently through the cracks of dawn?
For urgent Siamese washing machines
cha-cha-cha-ing through ballroom of U-joints?
For earthmovers reeking of primordial slime
and sinking into pallorous moonbeams?
Then put on your polkadot tunafish aura
your New Age sofabed sombrero
and walk don’t run
to the nearest creamy peanutbutter exit
jiving out into the distantly relative universe
to watch musical angels glide through eponymous ecliptics
into a leafy den redolent of the platinum plutonium virus!
The book is available in analog or digital form here:
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