Voodoo Chile Beats the Man:Pays the Rent!

The miracle call came in at 7:35Am, a time when all good poets are slumbering mercilessly...I lay awake in contemplation last night going over the brief but horrid exchange I would have with the Land-Lord(of the rings?) explaining how it would be entire weeks before I actually produced the rent....the horror of it plauged me every time I got up in the middle of the night to piss away the caffiene of the previous day...I tried to go with the flow, remain Jedi-Knight like, and was doing a pretty decent job...but the early AM rescue call was such a relief/rush that it took me an hour to get back to sleep...pure poetry sleep ( a formerly reluctant, close relative, came up with the heroic amount of cash I needed to pay the rent on this mildew covered crumbling shack of an animal stable(no offense to animals) that I dwell in)...

Shouldn't we live our lives like mad-men?
look at what "sane" men have done to the world


Are you mad enough? Wild enough? Insane enough? I want to screw over every creditor I've ever owed and buy a new harley/, move to the east Village and live in some hovel, of mega-overpriced shit-hole, drink espresso all night with too-thin, beautiful people and live in a poetic haze ,

Poetic haze of beautiful
destruction-un-construction
"bring me the beautiful crazie
Hyper-intelligent muther fuckers"

Let's make moonbeam pipes and smoke the
dawn, crash stars as if they were
cars

C'mon time-wrestlers
the fight is over
take off the crown of thorns and replace it
with bic lighters and butane flames

This is the 21st century for hell's sake
play an old record
burn a book (a textbook perhaps)

Read a novel (a good one)
drink with a bum
sunbathe
river-jump
ride-fast
let the strained part of your
brain
crack open




(don't pay attention to any of that shit it's just poetic sense)


Peace All
Love to all brothers and sisters