India with The Brian Jonestown Massacre pandora station...
This is about you. We thought a reason. “The soul has a mythical prehistory.” The Rishikesh shuffle. The India (not an) express. Spend hours looking out that window no good and no bad is more perception. The dirt color is everywhere. Believe in the color of the river, choose beauty, blue and brown and plastic and flowers and rings make love and Styrofoam stuck there in the corners. The science of faith and the smell of the air like a flower can’t escape it, mask it maybe a gas mask with curiosity to torments. Don’t owe you some fuzz haze living with dead-ends and forgot to tell you voices following the snake gods are necessary up and down the steps all graffiti and weeds and wisdom and chalk and pigments especially red they like that. Smear it around teaching negatives and maybe kill and maybe some on your face defining some kind of parameters your third (Big Sur) eye maybe a cross there better not be upside down but many a gloss-eye gem sleeps buried in darkness.
Today is the day Jane said her cough is gone sympathy for the devil and wants to go to the hear-my-heart temple of Lakshmi or that other goddess of satanic grace one in a thousand Hindu and throw that apple to the beggar of apples down the beach beggar of money and clothes and ashes making the dead cry again. Ever so wasted alright, it was alright a series of happenings let out that one to eight rock ‘n’ roll in the room and watch them dance whirlings dance like you mean it like high tone Galaxy 500 was in the room they make elemental peace meditation nice and watch your eyes sweet sweet Jane.
Layered fires erasing boundaries mellow we walk in the alley looking for some chai and a banana towards the five corners don’t burn bridges and traffic is heavy, dust and wine and roses everywhere behind the door and in socks. Random slow acoustic puddles it never even rained that would feel good on the skull some bohemian cred and a long tuk-tuk ride the fuzz ship stuck with the earth friction to see the expert in planets traveling underneath and a massage luddite style. I think I know where we are alley pissin’ picking you up breaking hearts and draggin’ Donnie down with two wheels and a horn sound falling into my closet fast fast fast.
Eastern vs. western sunny riff-shined dry and vegetarian post-scuzzy good thing don’t want accidents with all these people sitting round a fire making the elegance factor increase and touching a lot never feel ashamed, don’t forget dessert the best part cause sugar hits the spot and not to mention the juices, mango, orange and pineapple no more to say.
And finally –
Avant freeform stream association cross your legs rock two ears please Jane. One hears more on the left side 24K gold hair of the dog satans and fuckery and lucifer between two lives on the right slow motion righteous right handed do anything attitude and all the ideas thrown down from the heavens onto the paper via what posers want to be.
Special thanks to Baudelaire and the band Bardo Pond.