The New Ages were best described
in the litter of insects, an unknown
individual sold worm casings
for fuel, sugar cane was all the rage
in Argentina and girls used bracelets
made of ink. Not bad really.
There was a gap between the tribal
and communal that spanned eons
and the ropes connected tangents
in the vapors. We aren't talking
about the Glory Hole anymore are we?
Scanning the obituaries is always
the same, faces, and if you're lucky
it's a baby or another who passed asleep.
Those are real tough definitions
for the involved, the ancient tabernacle
seekers and keepers who wish always
for a St. Bernard or Lucius Grandiosus,
better yet to be one than see one,
so they think. The miracle of the head
isn't light nor praiseworthy
even in the hard malignant
generations. Nowdays, there's just too
much prophecy and so many arrested.
http://www.azcentral.com/arizonarepublic/travel/articles/1016bisbee1016.html
Good ole Boyd...always loved him and his wife Laurie and their tiny daughter Sarah who must not be so tiny anymore.
"..tchotchkes"...Radical Ann will appreciate that minimalist quote!
Says Boyd, ""I like heavies," he admitted. "People who are serious about who they are and what they're doing. Who are not to be toyed with. With a real toughness. And it can fall on both sides of the legal question. There are good ones and bad ones. I like the good ones, too. It's the seriousness that attracts me.
Yeah.....not soft like crisicola which characterizes the nature of some poets and thinkers. Copper is for bullets you know...shooting, thatsortofthing.
No comments:
Post a Comment