…solitary dome peering into another foggy morning.
we drive silently,
obsolete and isolated within ourselves,
straight into the Blinding Light.
don’t get concepts like “simple”.
don’t repeat rumors like “nothing”.
“where you goin, Friend?”
“jus passin thru, see if i forgot anything”.
“but where you headed?”
“anywhere”
“then hop in for the ride”.
the car shifts and heads North
no mountains in sight, only crunchy peanut butter hills.
cant deal w/ too many changes too quickly,
and concentration becomes imperative
navigating across borderline ropes,
1000-ft ones w/ a red barrel attached:
"1000 Feet For Intermediates.
WouldBe Heroes.
Cross Pagans.
Magicians.
Map Plotters and Ambitious Pilots.
For The Shore Sweepers.
The Wind Makers."
"light-soft-reflect…
so take yer time…take in patience...then exhale!"
Symbol!
Teacher!
Junkman!
Light up those flashlights!
Flowertops for all, fresh ingredients!
Everybody digs the recipe!
Everybody dips from the One Pot!
“and not to forget, most haven’t yet gotten around to makin generalities…”.
“do all things do pertain?”
“can any drip be insignificant?"
“all drips are significant!”
"rides one way or another always resume"
Then Drive Straight Ahead.
Every Fool loves Sunsets.
Head Straight In Time...
where there is no one to follow or lead us,
where we are never alone.
Somewhere Out West
1/20/73