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To the glassy eyed woman In front of the Dianetics building No Thanks, got my detergent besides, Brain done been washed This body seeming to be an infinity of cells Made of and yet one together a whole body A concert of being Even as each cell screamed itself That I am Voices cracked blur where disonance joins harmony Where the straight line gently bends An invisible rainbow piercing nothing Now each one in this that you are Realize, in this, everywhere full body of Be |
Damn girl, you make me feel like Jesus. Slick, Bad, and at least a little hippie Who needs to make poetry really happen Look through the Classified Ads, This is my declaration of intent. I wonder who will answer I will definitely need to find a cheap place to live Clothes at Saturday Market, Percussion, Yoga Ankle Bells |