Sunday, March 16, 2003

Tonight at 7pm, Dylan and I lit some candles in the middle of the park. That was special. This is a poem by John Barlow:

witchcraft in full bloom
peace may have broken out
red porcupine with tassels
green feathers converging
slick black hair of a crow
irony of love in chains
tastes like a mouth on LSD
fiery bones in the knees
desire to die is desire to live
the whole psyche arcing
scent eternal over mass tender
evening willow south mountain go
sign certainly yellow bright blue
canadian air force postcard trailing
two hundred and twenty two
lakes with geese calling you
anYtHiNg you want saying
come back


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